Four for flirting?
by Spideymaan
Summary: Four girls from Earth are pulled into Star Wars and must stop the events of the Phantom Menace from taking place. (Epilogue up: domestic tranquility and eternity). NOW COMPLETE.
1. Required Intro and What the Hey?

Disclaimer: Not mine (excepting original characters, plot, the order of these words, etc.) Everything else is already taken, dangit.)  
  
Other: A) This is my first fic. I'd love to know what you think of it. B) Obviously I am not intelligent enough to handle this process, because it won't do what I want it to (ie space correctly, show my paragraphs, upload all my words, etc). Please have patience!  
  
Four For . . . Flirting? By Spideymaan  
  
"Girls!"  
  
The three young women who had been standing laughing and chatting obliviously turned at the shouted word, and grins brightened their faces as they saw the figure approaching. With welcoming laughs and shouts, they beckoned her into the circle, the smallest of them giving her a fierce hug, which she enthusiastically returned.  
  
"Well, babes, how's it hangin'?" she asked cheerfully, totally uncaring of the stupidity of that phrase coming from her. The 'babes' in question, used to the inconsistency of her speech (which ranged from idiotic slang attempts like the former to unspeakable eloquence), responded with a medley of comments, all variations on, "Good!"  
  
"Where've you been, Laura?" the tallest of the group asked disapprovingly. "We've been waiting for almost half an hour."  
  
Laura scoffed. "And when am I ever on time?" As the others laughed, she continued, "But I actually have a decent excuse this time."  
  
"Well, out with it, then," the shortest, Krista, encouraged with a wide and extraordinarily devilish grin.  
  
Smirking, Laura complied. "Well, see, I just happened to be hanging out at the antique mall-"  
  
At this, the narrative was interrupted by a round of "Oooooh!"s from the audience, and Laura grinned in a mock-embarrassed way and laughed, "None of that, none of that!" It was common knowledge that an extremely cute young man just a year older than them worked at the antique mall over the summer, and Laura had set out-well, 'befriending him' was the term she used. 'Laying siege' was the group's general consensus of a more appropriate phrase.  
  
"As I was saying," she said loudly over the teasing and ribaldry (originating from Krista). When silence again fell, she cleared her throat and continued. "Well. I was hanging out at the antique mall, wandering around on the lower levels, when I came across this new booth just packed with awesome old jewelry. And-very cheap, hanging in the back corner under a pile of junk, I found . . . these." With a flourish, she held out her hand, grinning wildly.  
  
The others exclaimed in delight. Laura held in her hand four necklaces, all on long, fine silver chains, only slightly tarnished, all with round silver talismans at the end, each set with a different crystal.  
  
"I want the red one," she said. "Finders choosers, so to speak. You guys fight it out for the others."  
  
Amid a chorus of "thank you!"s, they pulled the other necklaces from her hand and examined them quickly. Danielle, the tallest, selected the one with the surreally beautiful azure stone; Annie, the quietest, the glowing golden yellow; and Krista, the short devilish one, selected the vibrant forest green. Laura, of course, remained holding the seductive, blood-red pendant, so dark it was nearly black.  
  
When they had chosen their color, the four young women examined their necklaces with interest. Apart from the stones, they were identical. On the smooth front, surrounding the jewel, were a spiderweb of black lines, rippling out to the edges. On the back, fine cracks, almost like a puzzle piece, radiated from the unadorned center of the circle.  
  
"Well?" Laura asked, still grinning broadly. "Put them on. They will be our emblems, our symbol of friendship and union! Kind of like the Celtic knots we used to wear," she grinned, "only more mysterious, and with one for Annie." She winked at Annie, who smiled uncertainly at her in reply. "So, what are you waiting for? Put them on!"  
  
They obeyed even as she did, slipping the incredibly long, fine chains over their necks almost as one.  
  
"Thanks again, Laura," Danielle said warmly, and Krista seconded, "These are awesome! How come we never find cheap stuff this cool, huh?"  
  
"Some people have all the luck," Annie laughed.  
  
Laura adopted a dramatic pose. "It was," she intoned, "destiny that led me to them. They had lain in hiding so long, waiting for the moment when I, by pure chance, put my hand upon them, and drew them from the darkness to their true masters."  
  
As Krista snorted, Annie remarked, "You make them sound like the One Ring."  
  
Laura shrugged. "And why not? Except for that whole evil and destroying the world bit, of course."  
  
"Or so you assume," Danielle said mysteriously, earning her a round of guffaws.  
  
"Well?" Laura asked after a moment. "What do you make of them? Not bad for five bucks apiece, huh?"  
  
"And, of course, Laura tactfully mentions the price without sounding like she's hinting anything," Krista sighed in mock sorrow as Laura glared at her. "Don't worry, buddy; we'll pay you back as soon as we get some money."  
  
"I was not hinting anything," Laura said, somewhat crossly. "You don't have to pay me back." She adopted another mysterious pose. "Consider them my gift to you all . . . of destiny."  
  
"Yay," Danielle said in a monotone, miming waving a little flag. Laura put her tongue out at her, and Danielle pushed up her nose in reply.  
  
"Well, I think they're absolutely lovely," Annie, too aloof to join this idiocy, remarked. She cradled her pendant in her palms as though afraid of breaking it and stared at it adoringly. As she was the artsiest of the group, Laura took her praise almost personally and beamed magnanimously at them all.  
  
"And what does our resident Historian make of them?" she asked Danielle sweetly, and got a sharp elbow in her side for her pains. Danielle was indeed pursuing an Archaeological major in college, side by side with a Childcare-based one: an odd combination, but one that was uniquely Danielle. And, as the four girls had just graduated from their senior year in high school, college was very present in all of their minds.  
  
Deciding she might as well answer, Danielle held her pendant up and squinted at it through the glasses she stubbornly refused to replace with contacts. "It certainly looks old," she said at last. Ignoring Krista's, "Wow, what an expert observation!", she turned it over and examined it a little longer. "I don't know," she conceded at last. "It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen before."  
  
"That's what I thought, too," Laura concurred. "Well, maybe we can do some research on it later. Uh . . . what were we going to do this afternoon?"  
  
"What do we ever do?" Danielle laughed, gesturing expansively around them. "Eat lunch here at beautiful Panera," she pointed to the restaurant just a few meters away, "go to the bookstore, and see a movie!"  
  
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Laura said, affecting a shocked expression.  
  
"Hey, guys, check this out," Krista interrupted, garnering everyone's attention. Flipping her necklace over, she inserted one very short fingernail into one of the hair-fine cracks and twisted it . . . and the tiny pendant unfolded like a metal flower.  
  
Laura gaped at Krista as everyone else exclaimed in surprise. "Wow! Look at this, Laura," Krista said excitedly, "all the edges are jagged now, and . . . there's this writing!"  
  
"What's it say?" Annie inquired eagerly, trying to get a glimpse of it herself.  
  
Krista waved her away impatiently. "It's not English-I mean, it doesn't even use our alphabet," she said. "I was just assuming it was writing. If you want to look at it better, open yours."  
  
As Annie fumbled to comply, Danielle shot Laura an extremely odd look. "Did you know they did this, Laura?"  
  
Laura recovered her voice. "I had no idea. Leave it to Krista to know."  
  
Annie had gotten her necklace open. "Hey! Krista, does yours have a tiny picture in the middle of all the writing?"  
  
Krista looked. "Yeah-looks like a pretty little flower. Ugh."  
  
"Mine's a sun!" Annie exclaimed happily.  
  
Intrigued, Danielle also managed to open hers as Laura tried, with little success, to do the same. "Oh. Mine's-" She stopped abruptly, and giggled.  
  
"Well, out with it," Laura said between gritted teeth as she grappled with her own necklace. A moment later, she conceded defeat with a frustrated growl. "Perdition! How did you get yours to open, Krista?"  
  
"Here." Krista reached over, inserted one fingernail, and opened Laura's necklace effortlessly. Even as she opened her mouth, grinning, Laura cautioned, "Don't you say one word."  
  
"So what's your picture?" Annie asked, much to Danielle's indignation.  
  
"I believe I-"  
  
"I can't tell," Laura obliviously interrupted, squinting at her necklace. "Some kind of symbol, perhaps? Hmm."  
  
"Well," Danielle began again, with an air of righteous indignation, "mine is a little symbol as well."  
  
"Really?" Laura said, glancing up. "Recognize it?"  
  
"Sure do," Danielle grinned. "I hate to break it to you, Laura, but I don't think these are as old as you were probably imagining."  
  
Laura frowned. "What makes you say that?"  
  
Danielle extended her necklace toward her. Laura frowned at it for a few moments, saying, "Now where have I seen that before?" Then, a moment later, she began to laugh. "Shucks!" she exclaimed. "Duped again! No wonder they were cheap."  
  
"What?" Krista asked in some surprise.  
  
"Hey," Annie interrupted suddenly, "Get a load of this!"  
  
Everyone stopped talking and looked at her.  
  
"See this?" she asked, pointing to her necklace. "This row of writing-just this one row- is different than the others, and that section of the circle has differently shaped edges."  
  
"So does mine," Krista said.  
  
"I have an idea," Annie said suddenly, and she reached out and grabbed Krista's necklace. Holding it up to hers, she pressed the edges together . . . and they fit like pieces of a puzzle.  
  
"Cool!" Krista exclaimed.  
  
Looking a little dazed, Laura also held hers up, and it clicked onto the side of Annie's, another perfect match.  
  
Slowly, Danielle lifted hers up. "This is so weird," she said, a statement with which everyone heartily concurred. She paused, and said, "Now I have a very bad feeling about this."  
  
"Come on, Danielle!" Krista said impatiently. "Just see if it fits!"  
  
"All right," she sighed, ever the practical one. "I just want it known that- "  
  
Her pendant touched the others, locking into place-and suddenly light flared up between the edges. As all four yelled and would have jerked away, they quickly realized that their necklaces were now practically soldered together, and that they couldn't do so.  
  
As Krista muttered a choice expletive, the jewels on the back all flared their distinct colors, and suddenly the writing that snaked around all four pendants glowed brilliantly. As they gasped, the symbols on the front also began to glow their respective colors.  
  
"Oh, no," Laura exclaimed suddenly. "Gods, I know mine! It's-"  
  
But before she could finish, all fours girls screamed as they were wreathed in an unearthly brilliant glow. For a moment there was nothing but light, burning in its intensity, engulfing them all utterly-then blackness.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
"Uuuuuuggggghhhh."  
  
Everything hurt. She was comprised entirely of pain. Pain was her world. Pain . . . and hunger. She was also hungry.  
  
So much for melodrama.  
  
As her senses cleared a little, Danielle became aware that she was laying, alone, on a soft bed, with diffuse light around her. She blinked, her eyelashes fluttering feebly, and was aware of a dim shape bending over her.  
  
"Awake at last, my friend?"  
  
Danielle meant to answer, she really did. However, at that precise moment her vision returned to her enough that she realized the figure bending over her was green, with a myriad of waving tentacles framing its concerned face.  
  
"Huh," she thought distinctly, and fell back into pleasant oblivion.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ __  
  
Annie was hot.  
  
Now that was the understatement of the year. She was positively broiling. She couldn't remember ever having been this hot before in her entire life. Stirring faintly, she tried to speak or even moan, but couldn't.  
  
Her eyes parted a barest crack, feeling disgustingly sticky and heavy, and she could make out two dim forms standing to her right, apparently arguing . . . over her?  
  
"That is an absolutely ridiculous sum," one growled impatiently, "and you are well aware of it."  
  
"Just what makes you say that?"  
  
"Look at her! She looks like she wouldn't survive a day. She's so scrawny I doubt she can even pull her own weight. Look at those hands! Not a single callous on them!"  
  
Indignantly, Annie tried to protest, but she was still incapable of movement, so instead she just lay there and listened.  
  
"Bah! She may not be a strong one, but she's got clever hands and quick wits, I'll tell you that. This one isn't for hauling junk, fool! She's for making repairs, fixing meals, delicate situations that require a delicate touch."  
  
"Hmmm. I've no need of a 'delicate touch' in my business," the other growled, but Annie thought he didn't sound very sincere. Interested for some reason she could not name, she continued to pay close attention.  
  
"Hah! And what about what you were complaining to me last week, when you couldn't adjust your flux capacitor correctly because you were too fat to fit in the hatch, eh?"  
  
There was a pause. "She is very skinny," the other said uncertainly. "Have you been mistreating her?" His tone was now darkly accusatory.  
  
"I? Never!" the other spat, clearly offended. "You know me better than that, Drusis!"  
  
"All right, all right," the first shrugged. "Sorry." There was a pause. "You know me too well. I'll take the girl."  
  
They began to barter unintelligibly over the price, using terms wholly unfamiliar to Annie, as she listened bemusedly.  
  
It wasn't until they agreed on a figure, spat on their palms, and shook hands, then Drusis drew out a pouch and gave several coins to the other, that Annie fully comprehended what was going on. She-she'd just been sold! Whoa, whoa, whoa!  
  
Horrified, she summoned all her strength and began to thrash around, trying to speak.  
  
"Look, she's waking," the other said, and the Drusis-shape came over and peered down at her. "You might want to sedate her, at least until you get her back to your place."  
  
Annie opened her mouth to protest-but she felt a needle prick her arm, and fell back into shadow.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ ___   
  
Krista was awakened, much to her disgust, by birdsong.  
  
At first she was starkly disbelieving. Birdsong? How the hell would she be hearing birds? She set her alarm to classic rock, as always, a far cry from this pretty little tweeting. But-and her mind reeled-it was summer. She wouldn't be waking up to an alarm anyway.  
  
Wishing she had the strength to tell the birds to shut the hell up and let her sleep some more, she instead resigned herself to painful consciousness and set about trying to make some sense of her situation. What was the last thing she remembered? A phone call. Driving to Panera. Hanging out in the nearby field, being eaten alive by bugs, while waiting for Laura, late again. Laura-necklaces-symbols-that glow-  
  
Krista sat up with a gasp, suddenly wide awake.  
  
She was, of all effing strangeness, in what seemed to be this wild meadow. To her left, a huge, beautiful waterfall poured itself endlessly into a frothing pool. Exquisite wildflowers bloomed all around her, their heady scent almost intoxicating. The grass on which she was sitting was soft as loam underneath her, and bees and hummingbirds flitted drunkenly around her, with the occasional insect-quick flicker of a dragonfly or the slow languor of a giant butterfly. To her right, a grove of trees, bearing delicate white blossoms that soon promised fruit, was the origin of the interminable birdsong. Above her, the sky was a clear, breathtaking blue, with a few puffy clouds lazily drifting around her.  
  
Krista shook her head to clear it, but none of it went away. The waterfall still roared, the birds still sang, the bees still buzzed unmelodically as they drifted from flower to flower.  
  
Ooookaaaay, she thought, now this is like the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. How in heaven did I get here? Where're the others? Where's Panera? She gulped. I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore, Toto!  
  
The surreally beautiful and somehow almost sickeningly saccharine landscape was as starkly different from the sun-baked, bug-infested meadow she had previously been in as the black and white farmhouse had been from the Technicolor glory of Oz. Except there had been no tornado, she had crossed no rainbow, and Krista was-proudly-a far cry from Dorothy.  
  
She was still sitting there dumbly, pondering upon the strangeness of the world and how in heaven she came to be where she now was, when a relieved cry from her right made her turn sharply.  
  
There, standing amongst the trees with her hands on her hips, was a vaguely familiar girl, swathed in a long lavender dress and tapping her foot on the ground disapprovingly. "There you are! We were so worried about you! Didn't we tell you not to go rushing off without telling us ever again? Anything could have happened to you! The other Handmaidens are frantic!"  
  
Krista took a good long moment to absorb the meaning of those words. She looked at the girl still staring at her, realized she recognized her, then very carefully looked down at herself, soaking in the importance of the fact that she was wearing an orange robe. All of these significant facts led her to the same conclusion, and she took another moment to try and accept it.  
  
Then, to her eternal shame, she fainted dead away.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ ________  
  
It started as nothing but a faint rippling, the mildest of distortions in the perfect silence of nothingness. As it grew nearer, however, it gained power and volume, increasing exponentially until there was nothing but it, endless and all encompassing, tearing and ravaging through the darkness, a sound of agony, of horror, and of utter despair.  
  
It was the sound of someone screaming. 


	2. Rude Awakenings

Danielle sat bolt upright, sweat pouring off of her, her hands raggedly clutching her sheets. As she sat, teeth gritted, breath caught in her throat, it took her long moments to realize the horrendous screaming had stopped as soon as she had woken, and only a half-remembered echo rang in her ears.

"Laura?" she whispered faintly, not even sure why she did so; then she shook her head fiercely and tried to take stock of her surroundings. She was in a bed again, in complete darkness, unable to make out any details of her room.

At that precise moment, a light flickered on, and a tall figure entered the room.

Danielle's jaw dropped open, and her mind went reeling. Unconsciously, she reached up and grabbed the pendant that still hung around her neck so tightly she could feel its shape being imprinted into the palm of her hand. Oh, my. So now, to top it all off, she'd gone insane. Her mind, unable to cope with the implications, rocketed off its hinges, jouncing wildly from one unrelated thought to the next.

"So," the man said in his calm, deep voice. "The enigma is awake. And how are you feeling?"

Swallowing back hysteria, Danielle tried to get a grip on herself. "Fine," she said, trying to sound equally composed but instead squeaking the word fearfully. Of course, that was a lie, but it seemed the only logical thing to say under the circumstances. No. Wait. Jedi sense when you lie. Uh . . . "Or maybe not fine," she said hurriedly, then immediately regretted it when his face creased with concern.

"The Healers said you would be yourself again the next time you awoke, and I confess I've been harboring a deep desire to talk to you," he said, smiling gently. At her stricken expression, however, his smile faded. "Is something the matter, little one?"

"I . . ." Danielle put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the little voice in her head. _Other than the fact that you're not real? No, nothing, thank you very much. And you?_ Sadly, it had a decidedly Pythonic ring to it. Great. Mixed fandoms. That was all she needed. But . . . If she had to be stuck in a non-existent world, why couldn't she have gone to Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter? I mean, Star Wars was all well and good, but she seemed to be in the Prequels, and she wasn't terribly fond of them. Especially not the Phantom Menace. And there was no denying the appeal of trekking across the Misty Mountains with some hobbits at her side, or cheering at a Quidditch match and being able to hex whoever she chose . . .

What, Danielle? _No_. Concentrate!

She tried, rather ineffectually, to get a grip on herself. Conversation. You're having a conversation (or trying to, at least). So. He spoke last. Time to respond. What should I say? _May I return to reality now, please?_ Uh . . . no. Something practical? "Who are you?" she inquired, hoping that it didn't sound as completely apropos of nothing as she was afraid it did.

She could sense his concern, as palpable in the room as the light around her. "My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. I am a Jedi Master here at the Temple. I am the one that found you yesterday, unconscious in the street, and brought you in for the Healers to revive. Apparently, you were merely suffering from shock, exhaustion, and a mild blow to the head. I trust you are fully recovered?"

By way of response, Danielle whimpered. No. Wait. Don't get him worried or pass out or anything like that. He's a Jedi, he'll rummage through your mind–and that would not be good. So, do something. Say something. _What?_ Anything!

She whimpered again, but there was a slightly more manic tinge to it this time around.

His frown deepened, and his midnight-blue eyes were worried. "Is something amiss, my young friend? What is troubling you?"

She forced herself to speak rationally. Okay. Remember. Possibly not a full-blown hallucination or something even scarier, remember that. Cling to that like the lifeline it is. "Is this some kind of joke?"

He looked bewildered, glanced around the immaculate room, then looked worriedly back at Danielle. "No, it is no joke."

Well, it had been worth a try. "Oh. Okay then." She stared at the bed for a minute, her mind blank except for impudent Pythonic voices. "Uh . . . I suppose we're in the Jedi Temple then?"

"That is correct. You are in my and my padawan's quarters, to be precise. You'll get to meet him soon enough. He's away on a mission at the moment, but due to return any day now. I'm sure he'll want to meet you."

Danielle's mind reeled unsteadily, making it hard to concentrate. _Think_, she commanded herself sternly. _First things first: ascertain the time. Is his padawan Obi-Wan, or someone I haven't heard of?_ Pause. _I can't believe I'm dealing with being sucked into a nonexistent world _logically.

"Your . . . padawan?"

"Yes. His name is Obi-Wan Kenobi." He looked at Danielle and gave her a mysterious smile that Danielle instinctively cringed away from. "I am training him to be a Jedi Knight after me. The term 'padawan' indicates that he is learning the ways of the Force from me." Then, to Danielle's total and utter shock, he dropped one eyelid in a barely perceptible wink. "He is a young man only a few years older than yourself, I should think, and an excellent padawan. I think you will get on well."

Danielle could only stare at him in horror. The little voice was far more verbose. _Uh, that's definitely not looking good, Danielle! I hope I just hallucinated the Jedi Master trying to hook me up with a nonexistent person!_

Clearing his throat, he glanced away and said, "I don't suppose you would be willing to tell me how you came to be lying unconscious in the street outside the Temple?"

She looked at him sadly. "I was rather hoping you could tell _me_."

He was obviously growing as bewildered as she was. "Why would _I_ be able to tell _you_?"

Screw logic. She was now in the mood for nothing more profound than absolute despair. "I don't know!" she wailed, putting her hands over her face.

The interrogation wasn't over yet. "How did you get to Coruscant?"

"I don't know!" At least she wasn't lying anymore.

He seemed at a loss. "Is . . . is there anyone you might be able to contact who could tell you these things?"

"I don't know! I don't know anything! I . . . I can't remember!" The need to giggle hysterically was getting far too prominent for Danielle's peace of mind. "Can . . . can you please stop asking me questions for a little while?" she asked, aware of how pathetic she sounded but not really caring. Her head hurt too much.

"Of course," he said, all condescending and soothing again. As Danielle watched, he stood (My, he was _tall_) and walked over to her as she instinctively shrank back. It was like . . . like being confronted by an apparition, only he seemed too real. Like the actor . . . and not. More real. No, wait. More _unreal_. Close but not an exact match. This one was _too_ gentle, possessed of such a commanding presence, and there was an edge to him that said despite all this, he was not unaccustomed to taking lives. And he smelled nice.

And where the hell did _that_ come from? she asked herself frantically. When Qui-Gon patted her shoulder, she felt horrified for a moment, certain she was going to cry–only to burst into hysterical half-sobs, half-laughs that Qui-Gon was at a loss to analyze.

"There, there," he said awkwardly, patting her again, and thus causing the laughing half of the fit to take precedence for a moment. "The healers said I shouldn't be stressing you so soon after your accident. I'm sorry I caused you such distress. I'll–I'll go now."

And leave her hanging like that? Nuh-uh. "No," Danielle croaked, trying to regain some measure of control. Removing her glasses, she wiped her eyes and used the moment to calm down. "Wait. I–what will happen to me while I'm . . . here?" _Here?_ the Pythonic voice questioned. _Where is 'here'?_ A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away . . . of course.

He looked at a loss, then said, "As long as you are here, you will be free to stay in the Infirmary–" at her horrified look, he hastily added, "–or stay in the quarters Obi-Wan and I share."

Oh. Joy. Let's get all cozy and intimate with the two stars of the movies, one of which is indirectly responsible for destroying this place and everybody in it, and the other of which is slated to die in a very short amount of time. Talk about a comfy atmosphere. "Is that where we are now?"

"Yes."

"And . . . ?" She let her voice trail off, uncertain what exactly she was asking.

"We will see if you get your memory back," he said reassuringly. (I wouldn't hold your breath, Danielle thought sourly.) "We have excellent healers. Probably, they will be able to help you. Now, I will let you get your rest. Do not tire yourself more; if you need anything, merely call. I will be in the next room."

So no blindly fleeing into the night and all that, she thought in some disappointment. Danielle nodded dizzily. "Th-thank you."

With a last gentle smile, he swept out.

Danielle sat for a moment, clutching the sheets almost frantically, trying to keep her wits about her. Think. _Think_. Not a joke–too elaborate. Not a hallucination–too calm. A fantasm she was living out while in a coma? Not likely. Maybe she was dead. Oh, yes, that would be just too typical. Instead of Heaven or Hell, she got sent to Star Wars. Right.

No . . . Unbelievable as it was, the most likely explanation actually seemed to be that she actually was, somehow, in Star Wars. The Phantom Menace, to be precise. And, on top of that, it seemed that unless she was imagining things, Qui-Gon had already taken an unusual interest in her.

_Then again, _Danielle thought sourly, _there is an extremely large possibility I'm imagining this entire thing. I'm probably sitting somewhere hugging myself in a padded room, singing Duel of the Fates at the top of my lungs, oblivious to the entire world. _

That thought was simply the breaking point for poor Danielle. It was just too much. Unable to fight any longer, she threw herself face down on the bed and succumbed to hysterical laughter.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Annie awoke to very similar conditions–temperature-wise, that was–of those of her last awakening. She sat up–and wished she hadn't.

She felt terrible. She was all woozy and the world spun rather alarmingly. She was also incredibly hot. It was like being in a sauna, except that she was in long jeans and a shirt, her hair tied up in a sloppy bun. And–screaming. Had someone been screaming?

On that very thought, a man walked into the room, and Annie stared at him with the absolute blankness that only complete disorientation can bestow upon a human being. He looked back at her, somewhat uncomfortably, and the silence stretched.

Then, typically, they both spoke at once.

"How are you feeling–"

"Was someone screaming?"

Pause.

He looked nervous now. "Screaming? No . . . no one screamed. Did you . . . hear . . . ?"

Annie blinked rapidly as she looked around. "Yes. I . . . Where am I?"

"Mos Islos."

She looked at him blankly, while inside her mind a frantic dialogue was running. He's looking at me like that should be the answer to all my questions and I have absolutely _no idea_ what he's talking about. While she was still too dazed for real fear, a strangely uncomfortable sensation, like alarm, twitched in her stomach.

"Mos . . . Mos Islos?"

He frowned. "Mos Islos. Of Tatooine. You don't remember where you are?"

Annie stared at him blankly, a profoundly horrified sensation in the pit of her stomach. Now that she had heard of. "Tat . . . Tatooine?"

His frown deepened. "Yes. Tatooine. Why?"

"This is some kind of sick joke, isn't it?"

"Not at all!"

Unable to help herself, Annie reached out and poked him, much to his consternation. "Oh, God," she whispered. "You _feel_ real." She pinched herself. "And I'm not dreaming. I must be hallucinating."

He looked at her in alarm. "Hallucinating? What makes you say that?"

She looked at him in equal alarm. "Because _you_'re not real!"

He looked vaguely offended. "Not real? Of course I'm real, girl! I'm your new Master!"

Annie's jaw dropped and she stared at him stupidly. "New . . . new Master?"

He looked down his considerably long nose at her. "Yes. I have just purchased you from your previous owner for a considerable sum of money. I am Drusis."

Annie felt a horrible sensation welling up inside of her. "But . . . I don't have a Master. I mean . . . not that I was aware of."

Drusis looked at her, horrified. "You mean . . . you mean that Keithror _kidnaped_ you?"

Annie relaxed somewhat. Being kidnaped was very terrible and all, but at least it was a sane, _possible_ thing to happen, and apparently this man was very upset at the notion.

"He must have," she said with conviction. "Because, I assure you, I am a free American citizen, born and raised."

He looked at her blankly. "American . . . citizen?"

Annie stared right back. "Uh, yeah. You know, America, land of free and home of the brave and all that? The USA? The states?" No comprehension. "Uh-oh," she muttered.

"Look . . . where is this America that you speak of? I confess I have never heard of it, but perhaps one of my acquaintances . . ."

"North America," she said. Nothing. "Uh, the Western hemisphere?" Still nothing. At last, frantically, "_Earth_?"

He looked bewildered and apologetic both. "I . . . I do not know. I don't know how Keithror would have come across you, then, since to my knowledge he has never left the city . . . but perhaps he bought you from someone who has. But why would someone kidnap you? Are you a personage of importance on your planet?" His eyes widened. "_Royalty_?"

Much as she would have liked to tell him she was the Empress of her magnificent planet and she would shower him with gold if he returned her, she reluctantly decided that, since he probably already thought she was insane, it wouldn't be wise. "Not really," she admitted. "But . . . I don't know. How else could I have gotten here?"

Drusis looked worried. "I must speak with Keithror, ask him where he purchased you. It doesn't do to own unlawfully enslaved persons, even in these dark times. The Empire doesn't hold with such things, especially if you're one of its citizens. Some of them . . ." He licked his lips nervously. "Some of them have cracked down very hard on slavery, especially on this planet; heaven only knows why."

Annie's mind simply seemed to shut down. "The . . . the Empire? _This_ planet?"

"Yes. I told you, we're on Tatooine." He looked at her strangely.

"Look," she said, suddenly fierce, "I don't know who you think you're fooling, but I assure you it's not working on _me_. I _know_ we're not on Tatooine, and I _know_ there isn't any 'Empire'. Give it up, pal, and tell me what's _really_ going on."

Now it was a staredown. "What do you mean, you _know_ there isn't any Empire?" he asked blankly. "There _is_. And what is so strange about being on Tatooine?"

At that, Annie did something that she had not done for a long, long time: she simply lost it. "_Because it's not real!_"

Silence reigned for a few moments.

"Not real?" Drusis said at last, slowly.

"No! NONE OF THIS IS REAL! Everything you're saying is from Star Wars, and believe me, I'm not falling for it! I know there's no Empire, I know there's no Tatooine, and I _know_ that I'm not a slave! This is all just stuff you've taken from a story–movie–whatever, and are trying to pull one over on me! Well, it's not happening, buddy! Now, give it up and take me back where you found me!"

At the heat of her wrath, Drusis had slowly backed away, hands up. When she finished, he said cautiously, "So . . . so you're saying . . . what?"

"Look, I'm from America, wherein resides George Lucas, an insanely rich man who invented a galaxy a long time ago and awfully far away where Jedi and Rebels and evil Empires battled it out because it looked good on the silver screen. I am terribly fond of his movies and all, but not enough so to believe that this isn't just some sick joke!"

Now Drusis was giving her a calculating look. "So you're saying that you think this is some sort of trick? That all this . . ." he waved a hand to encompass the well-appointed room, "is some elaborate setup?"

"Yes," Annie said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

Drusis walked over to the window and flung a curtain aside. "Then how do you explain all of _this_?"

Annie stalked over, looked out the window–and screamed.

Outside, on the sun-scorched streets, speeders whizzed past, merchants shouted their questionable wares, and aliens ambled easily along. In the distance, a ship slowly rose from the ground and took off, accelerating into the distance until it was lost from sight.

For a moment she stood there, frozen, her heart pounding. Then she clawed at the window until it opened and stuck her head out, making sure it wasn't a trick. A blast of hot air hit her, and she reeled back, dizzy for a lot of reasons.

Drusis closed the window and watched her through narrowed eyes. "So?" he said at last.

Annie sat down on the nearest item–the narrow cot she'd woken on. "Oh, dear God," she whispered. "I–I've been sucked into Star Wars."

"What is this 'Star Wars' of which you speak?"

"The nonexistent–well, I _thought_ it was nonexistent–world that I mentioned all this belonging to." A terrible thought struck her. "I don't know how I got in–how will I ever get _out_?"

"'Out'? Out of _what_?"

"Star Wars," she said, looking at him as though he were a complete idiot.

"I . . . see," he said slowly, watching as she shook her head in numb disbelief. He began backing slowly away. "Well, I certainly hope you work on that," he said diplomatically.

"I'll do my best," Annie murmured, feeling a horrible sensation of frustration and helplessness swamp her. No one would believe her. They'd just think she was–

The door slammed shut behind Drusis and locked.

Annie leapt to her feet and looked at it, stunned. "Hey! What are you doing?"

An intercom crackled on. "I see now why Keithror was so keen to get rid of you. The slave trade is suffering enough as it is; we don't need lunatics bogging it down even more."

"Lunatics?" she repeated, horrified.

"I'm afraid you'll have to remain here until I can get someone from the Asylum to head over. I don't know whether or not they'll accept you, but . . . Well. You certainly shouldn't be out in public. Who knows what you'd do to yourself, or someone else?"

Real panic swept over her now. "The–the _Asylum_? Look, I'm not really insane, I swear. It–it was just a joke, that's all. A joke. Get it? All this, not real? Hahaha!" she said feebly.

"Nice try. Don't worry; some electro-shock treatment and you should be good as new. I'm none too keen on having wasted all that perfectly good coin I paid for you, girl. Now, you just sit tight and wait for a while, and I'll be right back."

"No!" she cried. "No, please–Drusis, I'm not insane! I swear it! Please–"

There was no answer.

Numb with shock, Annie slowly sank back onto the bed and put her head in her hands.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At least this time it wasn't birdsong.

Krista's lids felt as heavy as though she'd been drugged, and when she tried to open them they fluttered feebly, resisting her. A diffuse light met her eyes, and she was vaguely aware of several forms bending over her. Around her, she could hear the soft undertones of feminine voices.

"–found her out in one of the meadows by the Bibukan Forest, all alone, just sitting in the grass–"

"She fainted as soon as she saw me, I don't know what's wrong–"

"Look!"

All conversation stopped. One of the figures bent over Krista more closely, and said gently, "Can you hear us, dear? Are you awake?"

She nodded dizzily. "I–where am I?"

A worried glance. "Your quarters, of course. I brought you back here as soon as I found you."

She frowned. "My–my quarters?"

A wave of murmuring swept over the others, and her interrogator paused a moment. "You–you don't remember?"

"No!"

"She must have amnesia!" another voice squeaked fearfully.

Krista's eyes focused, and she reached up and rubbed them, sitting up. "I don't have amnesia," she said testily, shaking her head and blinking to clear her vision. "I remember almost everything, just not–" She opened her eyes, and stopped dead.

Gathered around her, in a semicircle, were six young women, five of whom were dressed in long, hooded orange robes, the other the same girl she had seen in the meadow.

"Oh, no," she said distinctly.

The girl that Krista would have bet her life was none other than Natalie Portman put her hands on her hips and furrowed her brow in concern. "Kristae–"

"What?"

The frown deepened. "What what?"

"What did you just call me?"

Now they all looked worried. "Kristae," another one said. "It's your name," yet another supplied worriedly.

Krista felt dizzy. "It–it is?"

"Of course!"

A ridiculously lucid thought swept over her for as panicked as she was feeling. "And– and I'm on Naboo. In the Royal Palace, in–Theed?"

"Yes," the girl-who-looked-an-awful-damn-lot-like-Natalie-Portman replied, sounding relieved. "You do remember!"

"Not really, no," Krista said raggedly. "But–you're Queen Amidala, right? And you guys are Handmaidens?"

"Of course," Amidala replied. "So are you."

Krista felt like she'd just been knifed in the gut. "I'm–I'm–_what_?" she wheezed.

"You're a Handmaiden. Handmaiden Kristae. You don't remember _that_?" They all looked horrified.

"Obviously not," she said unsteadily.

One of the handmaidens, a blonde, stepped forward. "Do you remember _us_?" she asked hopefully.

Krista shook her head. "I was never _that_ obsessed," she murmured.

"I'm Sabe," a girl who also looked a helluva lot like Natalie Portman introduced herself.

"Rabe," the blonde said shyly.

"Eirtae," another chimed in with a sweetly concerned smile.

"Sache," a fourth supplied gently.

"Yare," the last one said calmly.

"And I," Amidala said, "am Padme Naberrie, more commonly known as Queen Amidala, ruler of the Naboo."

A rather bitter thought swept over her. "But–but aren't you guys all like fourteen years old or something?"

"I am," Amidala said shyly, "but the others . . ."

"I'm fifteen," Sache chimed in.

"Seventeen," Yare supplied.

"Fifteen," Sabe said with a grin.

"Eighteen," Eirtae said with a long-suffering sigh.

Suddenly Krista felt decidedly less insulted. Being of small stature herself, she was often mistaken for someone much younger, and it felt strangely good to be among a group of young women who probably had similar difficulties and would understand perfectly.

"So . . ." Amidala said gently, "what else do you remember?"

Krista thought about this for a long, long moment. She could tell them everything . . . but they would probably believe she was either sick or insane. So . . . why not go along with the whole amnesia bit? "Almost nothing," she said sadly, trying to look pathetic.

Soft sounds of pity raced around the room. "Well," Amidala said, looking worried, "we can try to contact a physician who will help you regain your memories–perhaps with treatment–"

Suddenly, for no apparent reason, it dawned on Krista exactly what had happened. Beyond all logic, beyond all belief, here she was, in _Star Wars_. Not only that, she had a place, friends, support. She–she could do anything, go anywhere. "No," she said dazedly. When they all looked at her in surprise, she gave them what she hoped was a determined, sweet smile. "Let's just see how much of it comes back to me as we go along. Don't waste money on a physician, please. I'm sure it'll come back eventually."

Amidala still looked worried, but then she smiled and said, "Well . . . if you're sure . . ."

"I am," Krista said with resolve.

"Well, that settles it, then," Eirtae said happily, clapping her hands together. "I'm sure you'll want to clean up a bit, get out of those robes?"

Krista, still drunk on ideas of all the places she could go, the people she could meet, barely heard her. "Yes, of course."

"And you'll need to be ready for the banquet tonight."

"Naturally," she said, now wondering if she could find a time warp and travel forward to when Luke was alive, because she would _love_ to meet him.

And that's when it hit her–_Qui-Gon_.

If Amidala was fourteen . . . this was around the time of the Phantom Menace.

A terrible thought struck her, and she reached out blindly. "Amidala–"

"Yes?"

"Has–has anything–unusual–happened recently? Like–have you met any–Jedi?"

Amidala frowned while the other Handmaidens giggled. "Jedi? I met a few when I was on Coruscant, once, many years ago, but not since then."

"And–the Trade Federation. Have we been having troubles with them?"

A brilliant smile blossomed on her face. "Oh, you _are_ remembering! Yes, we have. They keep trying to overtly raise their taxes." A frown flitted across her face. "I _do_ hope Senator Palpatine can keep them in line in on Coruscant."

_Senator_ Palpatine. Which meant–this was _before_ the Phantom Menace. Which meant–

_He's alive. Qui-Gon is somewhere in this galaxy, alive and well and fine . . . in more ways than one . . . and _I'm_ in this galaxy too . . . Oh, thank you God or whatever deity reigns on high! Thank you, thank you, thank you!_

"Kristae? Are you listening?"

She returned to the present. "What?"

"I said, weren't you going to go get cleaned up and everything?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I just drifted off for a moment there, trying to . . . remember more. Sorry. Well," she flashed them all an unwontedly brilliant smile, "lead the way, girls!"

With cheerful giggles, they obligingly took her hand and led her off, unaware that the cause of her sudden joy was the knowledge of a certain Jedi Master half a galaxy away. As her newfound flock guided her through the halls, she slowly began planning how she could get herself to Coruscant _before_ the Trade Federation got all antsy and put the events of the Phantom Menace in motion.

Krista gripped the pendant which was, strangely, still around her neck and grinned rather evilly. _Hold on, Qui . . . I'm coming . . ._


	3. And what were you expecting, exactly?

Danielle woke up in an absurdly cheerful mood.

Somewhere, deep inside her, she knew that cheerful was probably the one emotion she really shouldn't be feeling, that panic and terror were more appropriate; melancholy, at the very least. But logic didn't seem to be terribly important in her life right now.

Kicking the encumbering bedcovers aside–and wondering, briefly, exactly _whose_ bed she was stealing–she bounded out of her chambers and into what was apparently the main living area.

Qui-Gon, sitting on the couch in the middle of the room, looked up from the datapad he was reading with that same calm smile. "Good morning, my friend. And how are you feeling?"

"Absurdly happy," she told him brightly, bounding to a nearby chair and flopping into it with a dazzling grin.

He regarded her in amazement. "You seem in a mightily good mood for being memory-less in a strange place."

She gave him a mock-evil look. "Do you suspect me of having ulterior motives?"

This startled a laugh out of him. "No, of course not. It's just . . ."

She simply looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Well, I don't know. I think I'd be worried, or at least not so . . ."

"Stupidly happy?" she supplied.

"Well, that's one way to put it."

She leapt up and shrugged. "Well, you know what they say. Ignorance is bliss and all that."

He regarded her with unfeigned amusement. "So they do. Apparently that's truer than I ever imagined, because you, my friend, are certainly blissful." He hesitated, then said, "I don't suppose you remember your name–"

"Danielle," she said recklessly. Last names seemed unimportant. She'd never heard of anyone in Star Wars named Danielle, anyway.

"And I am Qui-Gon," he said, standing and extending a hand. "It is certainly a pleasure to meet you, young woman."

"Great!" she enthused, giving him an overly energetic handshake. "So, Master, what's for breakfast?"

He was grinning helplessly himself now. "You get right to the point, don't you?"

She fixed him with her best superior look. "A girl's got to have her priorities."

He laughed again, his eyes sparkling. "How very true. Well, Danielle, welcome to the Jedi Temple. Something tells me that I'm not going to regret taking you under my wing."

"I should hope not," she replied tartly, stalking into the kitchen as he shook his head in amazement, following her.

As she rummaged shamelessly through the cabinets, he said quietly, "After breakfast, the Council has requested to see you."

Danielle whirled, her mirth vanished. "They–they have?"

"Yes. They wish to examine you, see if you wish us any harm, the usual."

Uh-oh. "Oh," she said, looking down, while her mind was working frantically. What if the Council read her mind? What if they saw that all of this–was just a nonexistent fantasy where she'd come from? What would they do to her?

"What is wrong?"

She looked up. "The Council–will they–you know . . . rummage around in my mind?"

He looked horrified. "Certainly not. That would be the height of rudeness. They will seek out harmful intent, probably, and if they feel anything suspicious they'll follow up on it a little, but nothing more than that."

Danielle relaxed considerably. "Good," she told him with another dazzling smile, and he blinked at her mercurial mood changes.

"I'm female. Get used to it," she said, without even looking at him.

He started. "What–how did you know–?"

She turned around and gave him another smile. Being smiled at like that was a good reason to make a man worried, Qui-Gon thought nervously.

"I just know," she purred. Turning away again, she muttered, "And being around dear Laura for long periods of time does seem to give one psychic powers–or at least preternatural perception."

"Who's Laura?"

She whirled, a promising-looking box of food in her hand. "You heard me?"

"Dear girl, I am a Jedi. Of course I heard you. I repeat: who is Laura?"

"Just a friend of mine," she said, recovering her composure and continuing her scouring of the kitchen. "Well, not _just_ a friend, I suppose–one of my best friends. And a singularly unique and interesting one, at that."

"I would enjoy meeting her."

Danielle choked. "I'm sure that you would. However, not only am I quite certain _I_ wouldn't enjoy the two of you meeting, it is quite impossible. So, sorry to disappoint you, but no. And weren't you going to find me some breakfast?"

He blinked. "I . . . was?"

Another terrifying smile. "You were."

"Oh . . . right." As he moved to comply, with a strong suspicion he'd been hoodwinked, he wondered for the first–but definitely not the last–time just what he'd gotten himself into.

Over breakfast, Danielle glanced down and made a terrible noise. "I'm a mess!"

Qui-Gon looked apologetic. "Well . . . yes. That is how I found you in the street. The Healers merely examined you, they didn't clean you up. And . . . I'm afraid those were the only garments you had."

"I didn't exactly have time to pack," she said drily. "You don't suppose I could . . . well . . . clean up and borrow something before I see the Council?"

"Of course. I still have some of Obi-Wan's things from when he was younger. I bet they wouldn't fit too badly."

Danielle choked and nearly spit out the roll she was consuming single-mindedly. When Qui-Gon looked at her in concern, she smiled feebly. "Oh. That'll be great. Thanks."

Only slightly appeased, he returned to his meal, and she did the same, fighting to keep from giggling.

Breakfast being completed, Danielle had the time of her life locking herself into the bathroom and examining the many newfangled devices with which she would soon be cleaning herself. Her giggles penetrated the heavy door, and Qui-Gon, still in the living room, marveled to himself at her seemingly limitless cheer. "Are you all right in there?" he called upon hearing an indignant squeak.

"Where's the conditioner?"

Qui-Gon was at a loss. "The . . . the what?"

"The conditioner! I _have_ to have conditioner, or my hair will never comb out properly!"

"You . . . do?"

"Of course! _You_ have long hair; don't you need it?"

"Uh . . . no."

"Well, that explains a lot! You really should try–"

"Why don't I run next door and see if I might borrow some from Knight Verrail." Or at least escape, he thought to himself as he shamelessly fled the scene.

He returned a few minutes later, triumphant. "Knight Verrail was kind enough to tell me that she intensely pitied any female who was forced to share quarters with myself and my padawan, and that she wasn't surprised how completely neanderthal you must find our living arrangements. She supplied not only the requested conditioner, but a baffling array of other items she said you would probably be needing."

A hand extended from the door, and Qui-Gon placed the rather cumbersome basket in it. Arm and basket retracted, and the door shut; a moment later a happy squeal emerged. "Oh, bless her heart! I was afraid of having to ask for some of this. Would you mind asking her if she needs a personal slave?"

Qui-Gon chuckled. "I will. Now, I'm putting some tunics and boots outside the door. We can clean your own garments later."

"But I can't wear Obi-Wan's clothes forever."

"Certainly not."

"So . . . after I meet with the Council, we're going shopping!"

Qui-Gon looked stricken. "Shop–_shopping_?"

The water started. "Of course! Oh, no–" She sounded suddenly distraught. "Oh, no, wait. I don't think I have any money on me. My purse didn't make it, apparently." And even if it had, she somehow doubted they would accept Terran currency here.

"That won't be a problem," Qui-Gon said. "The Temple will be quite capable of supplying you with clothing, supplies, and any other necessities. We have a funding program for homeless–er, I mean–"

"No, don't be embarrassed," Danielle said drily. "I am indeed homeless at the moment, so don't balk at saying it."

"No," Qui-Gon said firmly, "your home is with us now."

"Ohhh . . . how sweet of you! So, does that mean I can't use the funding program?"

"Of course not."

"Good! Then we can go shopping right after my meeting with the Council!"

Again, the distinct impression of having been tricked swept over the Jedi Master, but he repressed it stoically. "Er . . . yes."

About forty-five minutes later, Danielle stood transfixed in front of the mirror. Obi-Wan's older things did indeed fit her well, and apart from being slightly large (_especially_ the boots), it was an entirely acceptable outfit.

_Please_, she thought, staring at herself with an idiotic grin on her face, _please let me smuggle some of this stuff with me when I get back to reality. Talk about The World's Greatest Halloween Costume! This is even better than being a Ravenclaw Prefect! Laura would die!_

"Are you quite done in there?" Qui-Gon called uncertainly.

Danielle tore herself away from her reflection, straightened her belt, and patted her hair more smoothly into its ponytail. "Quite," she said happily, and emerged in a puff of steam.

Qui-Gon looked her over with a smile. "You look like a Jedi."

"And who's to say I'm not?" she asked archly, prancing off as best as she could in the too-large boots. "Give me a lightsaber and let's see how long it takes me to dismember myself! Why, I could take on Vader himself at the moment!"

"Who?"

"Uh . . . never mind. It's not important. Come on; let's go awe the Council!" She bounded off.

Laughing again, Qui-Gon followed her, and they set off for the Jedi Council.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

The door opened.

Annie, who had had an awful long time to ponder her choices and the possible implications of being in a mental institute, was ready.

With a boldness reminiscent of a true Star Wars character, the moment the person from the Asylum–no, the _alien_–stepped through the door, Annie launched herself at him–well, she assumed it was a him; it was rather hard to tell.

Apparently neither Drusis nor the physician were expecting this move, because the tackle took out both of them. As they lay, stunned, beneath her, Annie scrambled to her feet again and bolted past them.

The sheer adrenalin and terror of the chase shot through her veins like acid, and instincts she didn't know she possessed kicked in. She sprinted along well-appointed hallways with almost manic speed, trying to find the exit. When she passed through a door, she slammed and locked it behind her, hoping to buy herself more time. A few wrong turns landed her in a bedroom; realizing that she would both stand out in the streets and die of heat, she found a wardrobe, then stripped off her own clothes and pulled on light pants, a top reminiscent of Luke's in A New Hope, and some boots that were a tad too small. Bundling her own clothing under her arm, she bolted back into the hallway–only to run right smack into her pursuers.

The physician lunged at her, hypodermic needle extended; Annie dodged with a shriek, and the blow intended for her instead caught Drusis neatly in the bicep. His eyes rolled up; with a disconcerting moan, he toppled over.

One down, one to go (another town, one more show?). Pushing the stunned physician away from her, Annie took off in the opposite direction–running smack-bang into a small droid along the way–until she reached what was obviously the main entrance.

Trying to not think about how long she'd survive on the streets, she slammed the door shut behind her and took off at a flat-out run, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and Drusis' home.

Mos Islos was an only slightly cleaner, bigger version of Mos Eisley . . . which wasn't saying much. To her intense relief, despite her obviously hurried departure, no one seemed to give her a second glance. They probably assumed she was just some petty thief, thus none of their business, and didn't care enough to make sure they were right.

When she'd traveled about three blocks and several long, twisting turns, she knew she had to stop. Not only was she burning up, her mouth felt as dry as the dusty street below her. Wondering how in creation she was going to get food, water, and better clothing, she ambled along aimlessly, still looking over her shoulder every so often to see if she was pursued.

She didn't know what she was going to do. How in all Creation had she gotten here? Where were Danielle and Krista and Laura? What had happened to her?

She got her first lesson in planetary diplomacy quickly enough. As she ambled along, lost in her thoughts, she heard a voice from her right call out. "Hey, girl!"

She stopped, and looked over to her right. There, sitting casually in a speeder, was a rather unsavory-looking young man . . . staring right at her.

"What?" she asked uneasily.

He looked her up and down. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Nowhere in particular," she returned grimly, starting to walk again. Great. This was all she needed.

"Want some company?"

"No thanks."

He pulled the speeder a little closer and flew alongside her, eyeing her in a most unpleasant manner. Gritting her teeth, she began to walk faster. "Ya sure?"

"Positive," she said sarcastically. "But if I experience a sudden change of heart, I'll come straight to you, you can count on it."

"All right, then," he leered, swerving away. Annie looked over at him–and past him. On the opposite side of the street, rounding the corner, was the physician, a very pissed-looking Drusis, and–_stormtroopers_!

Before her new friend could drive away, Annie cried, "Wait!"

He stopped, surprised, and looked at her. "What?"

Annie vaulted into the speeder and landed in the seat next to him, rather closer than she would have liked. "Whaddya want?" he asked, obviously startled.

"You know that change of heart I mentioned?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I've had one."

He slowly grinned. "Ya mean ya wanna–"

"I need a ride."

His grin turned to a puzzled frown. "A ride?"

"Yeah, a ride. In this speeder. To–" She took a gamble. "To Mos Eisley."

He frowned at her suspiciously. "A ride to Mos Eisley?"

"That's what I said," she said, now starting to get impatient. Drusis and co. hadn't spotted her yet, but it was only a matter of time.

His expression turned calculating. "Can you pay me?"

She looked at him in shock. "No."

His eyes narrowed. "Then no deal. I don't give free rides."

Annie was feeling a bit desperate. "Isn't there _anything–_?"

He gave her a lascivious smile. "Sure. If you'll–" he used a phrase which was undoubtedly common slang, and while Annie didn't know the literal translation, she got his meaning.

She swallowed her instinctive 'no'. Drusis was eyeing the speeder she was in suspiciously. "Deal," she said flatly.

He grinned. "Now."

"No," she spat. "_After_ you get me safely to Mos Eisley."

There was a moment of silence as they locked eyes. "All right," he said reluctantly. "After."

"And we leave _now_."

He looked startled, then gave her a positively repulsive grin. "Impatient, aren't we?"

It took all of Annie's willpower not to gag. "You have no idea," she managed.

"All right, then: here we go!" With a whine of engines, the speeder took off, heading for Mos Eisley and leaving a frustrated Drusis in the dust.

The trip was one of the most repugnant things Annie had ever had to suffer through in her entire life. Her companion kept trying to get her to sidle closer to him, breathing all over her, and making all sorts of lewd comments about what they would do when they reached Mos Eisley. This lasted a mind-melting three hours.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled in past the fringes and slowed to a stop. "Thanks for the ride," Annie said in what she hoped was a sweet tone of voice.

He leered at her. "I s'pose you've got a place here where you can keep your half of the bargain?"

She fluttered her eyelashes. "Turn off the speeder and get out."

Grinning widely, he complied, finally coming to stand beside Annie who was waiting patiently. Sidling up next to her, his rancid breath heated her ear. "Well?"

"Here," she said sweetly, and slammed her knee into his groin.

He doubled over with pain, moaning, and Annie took off into the fading light. She didn't know where she was going and didn't care. Anything had to be better than another instant in the company of that repulsive pig.

When he recovered from the well-dealt blow, Annie had disappeared.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

"No."

Sache looked at her, startled. "What do you mean, no?"

"Just that: no. I won't do it."

"It's not like it's an option, dear," Yare said sympathetically. "We _all _have to wear them."

Krista stared at the lurid pink–_thing_–in front of her with the utmost revulsion. "Was this in my job description?"

Sabe snorted and nearly messed up Amidala's elaborate coiffure. "It was in the fine print," the young queen said drily.

"But I _hate_ dresses!" Krista wailed, all the while feeling the futility of her protests.

"Don't we all, dear," Eirtae said sympathetically.

"No," Rabe said indignantly, "we all _don't_."

With a grimace, Krista turned her attention back to the garment in front of her, and tried to screw up her resolve. She knew she had to wear it, if she wanted to keep from blowing her cover and sacrificing the only friends she had in this galaxy. But . . . she _really_ hated dresses.

Things had started out so well. She'd gotten out of the evil orange robe and taken a lovely hot shower, which not even a bewildering plethora of sickeningly sweet-smelling soaps, foams, and shampoos could besmirch. She stepped out, combed her hair, slipped into this marvelously soft robe–then been told she had to change for the feast that night. And, worst of all, into _this_.

"It wouldn't be so bad," she said uncertainly, "if it wasn't that _color_."

A loud "hurrumph!" warned her this was a mistake before Sabe said quickly, "Not that she meant she doesn't _like_ the color you chose, your Majesty, it's just not flattering to her."

Far from backing down in a fight, Krista began loudly, "I did _not_–" but Amidala cut her off. "_I_ chose? You mean Fate chose for me, I hope! That color is the background of the Gerogonian King's House Seal; I'd have nothing to do with it if it weren't."

Krista decided she liked the Queen a little better than she'd thought she would.

"So why are we meeting with this guy, anyway?"

"Diplomatic negotiations," Yare said in disgust.

"We hope to form an important alliance between our planets," Amidala said smoothly.

Sabe rolled her eyes and leaned in close. "We think the Gerogonian King wants Amidala to marry his son," she whispered in disgust.

Krista was appalled. "But she's only _fourteen_!"

"Yeah, we know. We're not going to _agree_ to that; that's just the bait we're dangling in front of them so we can wrangle some promises out of them."

"Hey," Krista said, admiring. "You guys are _ruthless_."

"Welcome to the world of politics," Sache said pointedly. "And _dresses_."

Krista considered her options. She could refuse . . . and get into all manner of trouble, alienate the only people in this entire galaxy who were willing to protect and vouch for her, and even perhaps get herself thrown out. Or . . . she could endure.

Resigned, she said, "Would someone help me into it?"

A flurry of relieved feminine voices agreed.

As it turned out, this was easier said than done. It turned out that the Abomination (as Krista quickly took to calling her dress) included a half-corset, which Krista had to be laced into, an experience she was _not_ happy with. After the lacing up came the plethora of alien undergarments, each more bewildering than the last, forcing Krista to endure the ultimate indignity of not even being able to dress herself. Then, the dress itself–which, Krista reluctantly admitted, was rather attractive despite its repulsive color and torturous design. The full taffeta skirts, supported by innumerable stiff petticoat-like garments, swept the floor, and the artfully laced bodice was shockingly flattering. The sleeves, which consisted of belled pink taffeta oversleeves and skin-tight lace undersleeves that extended to her wrists, completed the almost-medieval look, only accentuated by the jeweled belt that was added. Highly-heeled dress shoes were forced upon her then, and then walking lessons were necessary, for, as Krista shrewdly pointed out, falling on her butt repeatedly would rather nullify the dignity of the dress.

Walking lessons mastered, Krista could successfully navigate her way through a crowd at a considerable speed and might even be up to dancing, if it couldn't be avoided. When she pirouetted successfully and even managed a formal curtsey without disaster, she received a round of applause, and felt a wave of profound satisfaction wash over her before she firmly squashed it.

"Now, then," Yare said happily, "we're halfway done." Ignoring the horrified look Krista shot her, she said, "Now all that's left are hair and makeup."

Krista felt faint, and it wasn't from the corset. "Wh-what?"

Sache looked at her pityingly. "Have courage, my friend. The worst is yet to come."

"So I gathered," Krista returned weakly. "I have to have my hair and makeup done, too?"

"Naturally," Rabe said, as if wondering how anyone could be so stupid.

"Need some time to recover from the dress first?" Sache asked understandingly.

"No," Krista sighed. "Might as well get it all over with in one go."

With those comments, she engendered a flurry of frenzied activity. She barely was aware of being forced onto a bench, her glasses snatched away, and contacts pressed into her hands. "We can fix your eyesight later," she heard Eirtae inform her. "Right now we don't have the time, so those will have to do." As Krista numbly inserted the contacts, she felt her hair being furiously brushed and gathered. While it was being styled, she sat with her eyes squeezed shut, enduring like a martyr might endure torture. After a few minutes, her hair was finished (it had been curled and pulled back into an elaborate twist that left curls spilling down her neck, and tiny white flowers had been attached, along with miniature jewels, and the whole coiffure sprayed with some substance to make it stay that way).

This done, before she could even recover she was spun around and, before she could ask for a sedative, her eyes forced closed and an insane number of hands simultaneously doing bewildering and terrifying things to her face. First, some strange lotion she prayed to God was moisturizer or something equally harmless was rubbed all over her face, neck, and shoulders; then foundation (although dear, dear, _dear_ Sache protested that she didn't need it, she was overruled and the foundation was applied with enthusiasm), mascara . . . and from there Krista lost track, absolutely overwhelmed. Something was done to her eyelids–she thought they might have plucked _one_ errant hair from her eyebrow–they drew a line under her eyes–they brushed some powder all over her face ("To make you shine!")–they put moisturizer, color, then gloss on her lips–after a certain point, she simply withdrew into herself and tried to shut it all out, wondering if she would still be recognizable when they were done.

After an eternity of this hellish torture, she was done. She felt–violated. Genetically altered, or at least surgically given a new countenance. Wobbly, she rose to her feet, thinking vaguely of escape–only to be shoved back down, informed she wasn't done yet. To add injury to insult, she felt a pink-diamond choker wrapped around her neck, dangling earrings placed on her ears, rings added to three of her fingers and a bracelet to her left wrist. They debated painting her nails, then decided there wasn't time, so they triumphantly paraded Krista to the mirror.

When Krista looked into the reflective surface, she froze. Unable to move–or blink, _or_ breathe–she simply stared dumbly at the apparition confronting her.

"Don't you look _marvelous_?" Eirtae said happily.

"Where'd I go?" Krista asked stupidly by way of reply.

It was true; the person in the mirror was not she. It wasn't simply that she looked dramatically different, or was _nearly_ unrecognizable; she _was_ unrecognizable. Her own mother wouldn't know her. Complete anonymity, she thought wildly; it's as good as wearing a mask. She also, she noted absently, looked considerably more like the other Handmaidens, as they were all wearing identical dresses and hairstyles.

"Was that so bad?" Rabe inquired cheerfully.

Krista was interrupted from giving her a Look of Death by Sache, who took her firmly by the arm and presented her to Amidala for inspection.

Per instructions, Krista sank into a low curtsey, to the approval of the other Handmaidens. "Very nice," the Queen said, amused. "Does this bring anything back?"

"No," Krista said clearly, then added under her breath, "thank God."

Glancing up, she studied the Queen–and realized just how lightly she had gotten off. Next to Her Majesty, she looked like she was dressed for a casual hike through the forest. The Queen looked almost inhuman–a man could be hiding in that mountain of clothing and hair and no one would notice.

Amidala and Krista shared a look of total empathy. "I hate it," Amidala murmured, "but then, we all endure things for our jobs, don't we?"

Krista smiled faintly. "Of course, your highness."

"Goodness, Kristae, it's Padme," she exclaimed, clasping her hand. "In private, it's always Padme."

Krista gave her another tentative smile. "Yes . . . Padme."

"So," Amidala said, raising her voice, "are we all ready for the banquet? Yes? Then . . . lead the way, girls!"

In a surprisingly dignified procession, the Handmaidens swept out after the Queen, and Krista, screwing up every ounce of courage and resolve she possessed (and thinking almost constantly of a certain Jedi Master), lifted her chin and followed.


	4. Blending Right In

Danielle had never, ever been this nervous in her entire life. School plays, high school dances, first dates were nothing to this: she was almost shaking with tension.

  
  


In the movies, it hadn't looked so bad. Just a motley collection of humans and aliens, some almost amusing, seated in a circle around her, staring at her from every angle, scrutinizing her with every ounce of concentration they possessed. But combine that with all those minds touching hers, feeling, probing, ready to pounce at the slightest instigation . . . Even Qui-Gon's warm presence at her back and, eventually, his large hand on her shoulder couldn't fully quell the panic.

  
  


"So," Master Windu said, steepling his fingers, "this is your little enigma, Master Jinn."

  
  


"She is," Qui-Gon returned serenely. "I have brought her before you as requested, Masters."

  
  


From behind Danielle, a female voice spoke up gently. "What is your name, girl?"

  
  


Danielle turned to look at the speaker-Depa Billaba, she thought faintly. "Danielle," she said shyly, shifting from foot to foot.

  
  


"Do you know how you arrived at the Jedi Temple?"

  
  


Danielle turned to face Saesee Tiin. "Master Qui-Gon told me he found me unconscious in the street in front of the Temple, and I recall waking in his chambers, but before that I remember nothing."

  
  


"Yet you remember your name."

  
  


Danielle turned yet again, starting now to feel slightly dizzy, this time to face Plo Koon. "Yes, Master; that is one of the very few things I remember."

  
  


"Hmmm," Yoda said thoughtfully. "Such a mystery, you are! Do with you, what will we, child?"

  
  


Danielle turned again and raised her gaze to meet his jewel-like green eyes. For a moment, there was utter silence, as Earth Girl and Muppet regarded one another. Beyond question, beyond doubt, she knew that the little Jedi Master was reading the very depths of her soul, and everything she ever was or knew or dreamed was right there for him to examine. And somehow . . . instead of frightening or repulsing her, the trust that welled up inside of her was almost overwhelming. Please, Danielle found herself thinking slightly desperately, please don't ask me any questions I can't-I mustn't-answer! I mean you no harm, you must believe me!

  
  


Then, out of nowhere, Yoda smiled; Danielle blinked in astonishment.

  
  


"Such fuss over one so obviously harmless," he said mildly. "Let her be, we shall. Perhaps, return in time, her memory will."

  
  


Danielle simply stared at him, mouth slightly agape, her gratitude too great for words.

  
  


With a secretive smile, Yoda glanced at the other Council members. "Probed the girl's mind I have," he confessed. "Kind-natured, respectful, and a servant of the Light, she is. Jedi potential, she has."

  
  


The world upended itself. Only when she blinked and realized that she was being supported solely by Qui-Gon's arms did she comprehend that it was not the world which had done a gymnastic routine, but her.

  
  


"Are you all right?" Qui-Gon asked, obviously both concerned and startled.

  
  


"All right?" Danielle demanded unsteadily. "If he just said what I thought he said, I am far from all right!"

  
  


Now Qui-Gon smiled. "That you have Jedi Potential?"

  
  


"Yes! That!"

  
  


"If it makes you feel any better," he said gently, "I suspected as soon as you awoke the first time. There is a brightness to your spirit-a strength-"

  
  


"Stop," Danielle protested weakly, "or I-I might-"

  
  


"You might what?"

  
  


"Laugh-hysterically-like before-you remember-"

  
  


Obviously he did, because he helped her up again with alacrity. "No need to do that," he said hastily. "You're all right."

  
  


"I'll be damned if I'm all right," Danielle said, succumbing slightly to the huge well of profanity that had been building up inside her for the past few days. "This is getting almost cliched, isn't it? Now all I need is to be somebody's long-lost daughter or twin sister, et cetera." She looked at Yoda again, who had that smug I've-shown-you-haven't-I? look on his face. "It's true?" she asked, pleadingly.

  
  


"I'd have thought you'd be pleased," Windu said, shocked.

  
  


"Of course, it's too late for you to be properly trained," Billaba put in, "and you don't quite have the midi-chlorian count that we usually require, but the Force-sensitivity is definitely there. I'm surprised you weren't identified early. Were you born outside the Republic?"

  
  


"You could say that," Danielle replied, fighting with all her willpower to keep sarcasm to a minimum. Consider the war she was already waging against hysterical laughter and familiar Pythonic impulses, this was no easy feat.

  
  


"But, while you are here," Yaddle chimed in, "as you seem to have already bonded with Master Qui-Gon, he will take on helping you develop your sensitivity and control your powers."

  
  


Qui-Gon started visibly. "I'll what?"

  
  


Danielle gave him a smile for which she was infamous on earth and which made her previous terrifying smiles seem trivial in comparison. "I couldn't have chosen better myself," she said sweetly. As Qui-Gon went an unhealthy shade of white and began looking about wildly, as though seeking escape, she sidled up next to him and purred, "At least if I'm trapped in this downwardly spiraling farcical delusion, you're strapped in the front seat right next to me, Qui-dear."

  
  


"'Qui-dear'?" Mace repeated with barely concealed delight.

  
  


"Masters," Qui-Gon said, backing away from Danielle as though she were toxic, "I already have a padawan. Surely some other Jedi-Knight Verrail, perhaps-"

  
  


"But, Qui, I want you!" Danielle sobbed, grabbing his arm desperately while affecting her most pathetic expression.

  
  


This had varied effects. Qui-Gon looked torn between amusement, terror, and indignation, and couldn't settle on one emotion long enough to spit out a retort. Yoda smiled more deeply, green eyes sparkling, while Mace seemed close to fits of hysterical laughter. The rest of the council, however, seemed touched by this patently genuine plea.

  
  


"Settled it is, then," Yoda said with a tone of finality.

  
  


Completely disregarding Qui-Gon's, "How is this settled?" Mace said maliciously, "Teaching this girl and allowing her to stay with you for a while will not interfere with your training of young Kenobi. In fact," Mace's grin broadened even more, "I suspect they will get along very well."

  
  


There they go again, hinting all these ominous things, Danielle thought uneasily. However, as she was currently clinging to the horrified Master's arm like some sort of soap opera reject, she had quite truthfully brought this upon herself and it was a bit late to back out now. Besides . . . it was in all likelihood going to be the most fun she'd ever had in her entire life.

  
  


Qui-Gon still hadn't accepted his sentence. "But . . . but . . ." he tried feebly.

  
  


"No buts," Mace said sternly. "Can't you see the girl wants you?"

  
  


"But . . ."

  
  


"Protest not, Jedi should, when give them orders their Council does," Yoda said maliciously.

  
  


Qui-Gon looked mutinous. "This isn't fair."

  
  


"That's an infantile evasion," Danielle said brightly. "Do you have some real reason you don't want to help me?"

  
  


Staring into her intent, deep-brown eyes, Qui-Gon found himself at a loss for a reply. "Well . . . no."

  
  


"So then take me on or come up with a good reason not to," she said as only she could.

  
  


For a moment he was silent as a battle of wills took place. Yet again, Danielle emerged victorious. "All right," the Jedi Master muttered ungraciously, "you win. You're my quasi-padawan. Ye gods, what a mess."

  
  


"What plans have you for the girl, hmm?" Yoda inquired.

  
  


Danielle perked up again. "After the meeting, Qui offered to take me shopping."

  
  


Qui-Gon shouted, "Offered?" just as Depa Billaba said, "Why, Qui, how sweet of you!" and Mace grinned, "But you make such a smashing Jedi, my young friend."

  
  


Danielle decided she liked Mace an awful lot too. Glancing down at herself, she said, "Yes, I do deserve the outfit now, don't I? But it doesn't fit perfectly, and these boots are way too big. I'd like some things that are really mine, to wear along with Obi-Wan's old things."

  
  


"That won't be a problem," Plo Koon said kindly. "Besides, Master Qui-Gon needs to get out into the city more often. He's getting too detached from the people he protects and serves, holed up here in the Temple. This shopping trip will be a learning experience for him."

  
  


"Taking a teenage girl shopping is a learning experience for anyone, I imagine," Adi Gallia put in drily, amused.

  
  


"It seems that settles it, then," Mace said happily. "Take the girl shopping, get her some new things, enjoy yourselves. I think the two of you will be good for each other-well, mostly you, Jinn."

  
  


Poor Qui-Gon looked like he'd just been sentenced to life imprisonment. "You are a little, little man, Mace."

  
  


"Others to see, we have," Yoda interrupted. "Finished with you two, we are."

  
  


Qui-Gon bowed resentfully, then poked Danielle to do the same. As they turned to leave, Danielle felt a strange sensation of disappointment. Yoda had seen everything she was. Surely he'd also realized-

  
  


"Young one," his scratchy voice rang out behind her as they reached the door, stopping them in their tracks. Danielle turned, half-afraid, to regard the tiny Jedi Master. "Yes?"

  
  


For a moment they merely locked eyes again, then, slowly, gracefully, Yoda slid from his chair, set his gimmer stick on the floor . . . and opened his arms.

  
  


With an irrepressible squeal of delight, Danielle shot back across the room and gathered the tiny alien in a huge bear hug.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Annie was lost.

  
  


There was no getting around it. She was in a strange city, she was penniless, the light was fading, and she was completely clueless.

  
  


How much better could this get?

  
  


As if in answer to her question, she turned a corner-right into a group of four stormtroopers.

  
  


Her double-take was not only wholly unintentional, it was patently obvious. The troops glanced over, took one look at her colorless expression, and headed over.

  
  


Annie debated fleeing-hey, insanely stupid ideas had worked for her before, hadn't they?-but when the nice troops leveled their blasters at her, she decided she'd just wait this one out.

  
  


As she patiently waited while they surrounded her, the one who was obviously in charge came over and stood right in front of her. "What are you doing around here?"

  
  


The Force, apparently, was still with Annie, for a lie instantly came to mind. "Just negotiating water contracts with some people in town," she said lightly, hoping her total otherworldliness wasn't too apparent. "I'm Annie Whitesun." Take that, George Lucas, she thought belligerently. I'm Beru's fictitious sister. So there.

  
  


"Yeah, I recognize you," one of the others spoke up, causing Annie to choke and then pretend it was dust. He what? Before she could even fully absorb the implications, another said, "So you are. What are you doing here all alone, little girl?" She imagined that if she could see through his helmet, he'd be leering at her.

  
  


What I wouldn't give to be able to do the mind whammy right now, she thought ruefully. "Like I told you, I'm-"

  
  


"Doesn't that brother of yours usually come with you?"

  
  


Brother? What brother? Annie tried hard not to guffaw and succeeded . . . just barely. "He's . . . sick." Or nonexistent, take your pick . . .

  
  


They exchanged glances. "Sick, huh? And what about our arrangement?" the first finally asked nastily.

  
  


Okay, this is so totally unfair I can't even find words for it, she thought plaintively. If I'm going to be thrust abruptly into a totally alien world, I should at least be told the rules! "Arrangement?" she repeated carefully.

  
  


To her absolute shock, this earned her a hard cuff on the jaw that sent her reeling, her eyes watering, a gasp of astonishment choking from her throat. "Don't play stupid, girl," another said fiercely. "He said that next time he came to town, he'd have the money."

  
  


Yet another sneered audibly. "He's not here . . . but you are."

  
  


"So where is it?" the last piped in.

  
  


Annie felt almost sick again. "I . . . what money?"

  
  


She ducked the cuff this time, but got a blaster stuck under her chin in response. "You know. 

Our little wager. Where is it?"

  
  


"I don't have it," she managed to choke.

  
  


"Don't you? Well, how about a nice trip up to Debriefing so you and them can discuss it? How's that sound, missy?"

  
  


"Look," Annie said, beginning to panic, "I don't-"

  
  


She wasn't exactly sure what she'd have said, but, luckily, she never had to say it. From further down the alley there suddenly came an unreal booming scream, echoing painfully loudly in their ears. As one the stormtroopers whirled to face it, guns at the ready-and Annie, knowing a Sign From God (or the Force, probably) when she saw one, took off in the other direction, hoping that stormtroopers really were as bad of shots as they'd always seemed.

  
  


She was almost around the corner before they started after her, and a spattering of shots pummeled the ground at her feet. Gritting her teeth, she propelled herself to a greater speed, whipping around corners as often as possible but still not fully losing her pursuers. At last, she turned another corner . . . and realized she'd hit a dead end.

  
  


She stopped, panting, to look about herself wildly. It wouldn't be long. Mos Eisley wasn't that big of a place, really; she was done for, after all . . .

  
  


"Hey!" a soft, strangely accented voice called from her right. As she whipped around to look at it, she realized a cloaked figure was standing in a dark doorway over which flashed an imposing neon sign. "Are you all right?"

  
  


She glanced at the other. "Not really," she said suspiciously. Then, in a sudden rush, she heard herself say, "The stormtroopers are after me." As soon as she'd said it, she was horrified, realizing she'd given herself away.

  
  


However, to her supreme amazement, the figure paused a moment, obviously considering, then beckoned to her urgently. "Quick! In here!"

  
  


Annie did some quick considering herself before she decided that she really didn't have much of a choice. Darting after the mysterious figure, she hurried down a staircase, watched as the figure closed the door behind them, then surveyed her surroundings.

  
  


She appeared to be in a . . . bar? 'Dive' seemed like a more appropriate word, but she wasn't in the mood to be picky right now. It was out of sight . . . and deserted except for an alien behind the counter, who was staring at her intently.

  
  


Behind her, her mysterious rescuer pushed back its hood . . . revealing a scaled alien with violet skin, molten gold eyes, and a flaring rill. The alien behind the bar, in contrast, was furred, with cat-like eyes and whiskers to match.

  
  


"What's this?" the other asked gruffly. "Another stray?"

  
  


"The stormtroopers are after her," Annie's rescuer said in a surprisingly musical voice. "I offered her sanctuary."

  
  


The other grunted disdainfully as he looked Annie over. "Well, she's here. Now what're we gonna do with her, huh?"

  
  


As if on cue, a door opened somewhere, and a small, slender human woman came down the stairs. When she caught sight of Annie, her eyes widened. "Who's the girl?"

  
  


"Rebel," Annie's rescuer answered. When Annie started, she pinned her with that intense golden stare. "Aren't you?"

  
  


Annie made some lightning-quick decisions. If she was in Star Wars, in the classic trilogy, she would most certainly want to be a rebel. They did win, after all. "Yes, of course."

  
  


The lizard-like woman nodded sharply, satisfied. "The stormtroopers were chasing her," she told the other two, and the feline man scowled. "Good riddance, I say."

  
  


"Come off, Jiano," the human woman barked. "We always help those who need it. The Empire isn't going to fall unless someone does something about it!"

  
  


Jiano grunted and began polishing the bartop fiercely. "Better do something with 'er right quick, then," he commented. "Regulars'll be gettin' in any minute now."

  
  


"True. And where can we hide you, my friend?" the lizard-woman asked softly. "I'm Essra, by the way."

  
  


"Annie," she returned.

  
  


"I'm Cassandra, and I have an idea," the human woman said. "Why not hide her in plain sight?"

  
  


Essra looked at her sharply. "What do you mean?"

  
  


Cassandra grinned. "What if . . . I should happen to fall ill . . ." She grinned widely. "We'd need a replacement singer."

  
  


Essra looked at Annie appraisingly. "Can you sing, girl?"

  
  


Annie considered this for a moment. "Nothing special, but if it's necessary, I'm sure I could manage."

  
  


"Good!" Cassandra exclaimed, hurrying toward them. "Now, I'm going to just take you upstairs, and get you into some clothes and makeup and a hairstyle, and trust me, baby, they'll never recognize you. We'll plunk you up on that stage with that band behind you, and you give it all you've got-and we're home free."

  
  


"All-all right," Annie said weakly, vaguely aware that she had, at last, fallen in with the right crowd. Cassandra took her arm and pulled her upstairs before she could manage anymore, up several flights, and into a small room. Locking the door behind them, she pointed Annie to a screen and said, "Get behind there and pull this on." She handed her a long-shift like garment which was entirely bewildering to Annie, but she did as she was told.

  
  


When she emerged, clad only in the shift, she was ordered to put her arms in the air and stand still as Cassandra tugged something over her head and into place. Annie felt elaborate pads and swells of fabric fit snugly over her skin, and when she looked down she found herself staring at an almost ridiculously voluptuous body clad in a shimmering blue sequined dress. Next Cassandra handed her shoes to put on while she put Annie's hair tightly up and then pulled a wig on over that. Whipping Annie around, she slung half a dozen gaudy necklaces on her and thrust bracelets on her wrists over the long sleeves. She then applied clouds of makeup so rapidly that Annie sneezed helplessly when she was done and wondered if her real face was still there. Then, she was hauled in front of the mirror to examine herself.

  
  


"God," she said involuntarily as she saw the apparition that confronted her. "I look terrible."

  
  


"Not that bad, actually," Cassandra said firmly, "but they'll never recognize you, will they?"

  
  


Annie stared into the mirror and a slightly overweight, over-done, bright red-haired drag queen stared back. "No," she said drily, "they won't. I'll look like some runaway psycho clown meets Tina Turner."

  
  


"Bravo for me," Cassandra said briefly, then tugged on her hand again. "C'mon, time to get you downstairs-Essra'll have already told the band the skinny, but you need to be down there pronto to explain to the regs why you're there."

  
  


"You're sick?"

  
  


"With heat stroke. Happens all the time. I'm a hypochondriac. Nobody'll question a thing. 

You're some girl I spotted in a third-rate dive on Merxk Street and hauled here for part time work, if anyone asks that much. The words are on a teleprompter on the far wall, just below the painting of the ocean. Talk about wishful thinking." All this while, Annie was clattering down the stairs, feeling totally overwhelmed. "I'll tell the band nothing hard, just nice and mellow stuff so you can keep up. If we need to prolong this arrangement, we can talk more about music later, right, chica?"

  
  


"Uh . . . right."

  
  


"Good. Now, put your stage face in place, because you're on!" She shoved Annie through what looked like a blank wall-and as she stumbled forward into a sudden bright light, she realized she was standing on a tiny stage in the corner of the bar, in the spotlight, with a now moderately full house of customers staring at her-and her mind went completely blank.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


To her credit, Krista really, really tried to do everything right.

  
  


But, come on, this was Krista we're talking about. Combine with dress, makeup, high heels, high expectations and a nonexistent universe, and you've got a whole heaping of trouble.

  
  


Things weren't so bad at first. They walked down the tiled halls in a careful formation, Amidala leading, the six handmaidens trailing neatly after, and everyone they passed bowed or curtseyed deeply. Krista rather liked it. Then, when they reached the hall where the banquet would be taking place and the doors swung open with a fanfare, she had an epiphany . . . and things just went downhill from there.

  
  


From the right of the giant doors, the crier said ringingly, "Queen Amidala, of the Naboo."

  
  


Everyone fell into a deep gesture of respect of some kind or another. The Queen paused for a moment, regal, then swept in as everyone rose. Krista waited . . . but nothing else happened.

  
  


"Um, hello?" she asked Eirtae, who was next to her. "Why aren't we announced? Are we just not important, or something?"

  
  


Eirtae looked flabbergasted. "I'm sure I don't know. It's . . . tradition, I suppose."

  
  


Krista glanced indignantly over at the crier . . . who, to her intense surprise, winked. "It's marvelous to have you back," he whispered, then, compounding her shock, raised his voice again and cried, "The Ladies Sabe, Sache, Yare, Rabe, Eirtae, and Kristae!"

  
  


Amidala looked back in surprise as the entire hall broke into excited murmurings. To the left, a man Krista recognized as Captain Panaka shot a terrible look at the crier, who grinned unrepentantly, then winked at Krista again. Grinning right back, she winked as well before sweeping after the others to the long banquet table set out before them.

  
  


Amidala sat at one end, with her handmaidens spread around her. Then were the delegations from Gerogonia, including the King himself, the prince, and his retainers, all in shocking pink. Further down were Amidala's court.

  
  


Krista, to her intense horror, was seated at the end of the string of handmaidens, with dear, dear Sache on her left . . . and the Gerogonian prince on her right. Marvelous.

  
  


He was cute enough, she supposed. Tall and dark-haired with the kind of swimmingly blue eyes a girl could just drown in . . . if that was your type of guy. For Krista, it wasn't, so when he met her eyes and gave her a charming smile, she shot him a coolly polite one in return and wondered who'd done the seating arrangements.

  
  


When everyone had settled into their seats as gracefully as possible, Amidala rose, and the entire hall fell silent. "Representatives of Gerogonia," she began smoothly in a strange accent Krista hadn't heard before, "people of Naboo, esteemed guests. We are gathered here today . . ."

  
  


Dearly beloved, Krista thought, amused, but that emotion quickly faded. The speech that followed was one of the most boring she'd ever heard in her entire life, but everyone else seemed to be listening raptly, so she assumed an interested expression and let her mind wander.

  
  


Then, she contracted the hiccoughs.

  
  


They started out small enough, innocuous and innocent so that she could muffle them in her hand. Then, they developed to the point where others were beginning to stare at her, oddly, as though she were doing this deliberately. Doubling over, she brought up a fold of her dress to try and further muffle the sound, but soon her hiccoughs were loud enough to rival Amidala's speech, echoing off the soaring tiled walls and bouncing back in disturbingly elongated syllables that sounded like curse words or the speech of someone mentally retarded.

  
  


When the other guests were beginning to have to conceal laughter, Sache hissed urgently, "Here! Drink this," and thrust a glass of water into a grateful Krista's hand as Amidala continued, unperturbed.

  
  


Krista took a few sips of water, hoping it would help. She wanted to die. If only they didn't echo so much-

  
  


"GRRRRAAAAHHH!"

  
  


Krista let loose a bloodcurdling scream and shot back from the table so quickly her chair upended, taking her-and her water glass-with it. As everyone else leapt up in similar alarm, she lay there stunned, still shaking. When she felt strong arms pulling at her, she at first resisted, then realized the Gerogonian prince was helping her to her feet.

  
  


"I'm soaking," she said in dismay, looking at herself, then glancing wildly around. "What the he-hey was that?"

  
  


The prince gave her that 10,000 watt smile as he righted her chair and pulled it back for her. "I did it."

  
  


She stared at him, stunned. "You what?"

  
  


"Frightening someone is an excellent way to remove their hiccoughs. Or hadn't you heard that?"

  
  


Krista stared at him, caught between horror and amusement. "You-you did that to help me get rid of my hiccoughs?" she managed, noticing that most of the other guests were shooting him singularly evil looks.

  
  


He shrugged carelessly. "They're gone, aren't they?"

  
  


They were. "So they are," she managed somewhat unsteadily. "I-thanks, I guess. I'd have preferred a less dramatic method, but-beggars can't be choosers."

  
  


"Indeed," he replied, seating himself beside her with a very smug expression.

  
  


At the head of the table, Amidala looked like it was taking every ounce of her willpower not to laugh, but somehow she contained herself. "Well, then," she said smoothly. "If the excitement is over, may I continue with my speech? Oh, good." She resumed her gentle platonic niceties, and Krista tried her absolute hardest not to giggle or swat the Prince grinning so self-assuredly next to her.

  
  


However, the evening's troubles had just begun. Just as she was starting to enjoy letting her mind drift and ponder just how she'd get to Qui-Gon, she was scared half to death by a strange, tickling sensation on her leg.

  
  


She froze, caught between terror and hysteria, hoping she'd imagined it. When it wasn't repeated, she relaxed somewhat. Surely she'd just-

  
  


There it went again: a slow, feather-light, deliberate touch tracing up her right leg.

  
  


For a few moments she contemplated the fact that she might well be going insane, and this reassured her somewhat. Heck, she was already in Star Wars; a little madness couldn't compound the problem very much.

  
  


However, on the third occurrence, the touch lingered a second too long, and she recognized it for what it was.

  
  


She was out of her chair so fast she wondered if being in Star Wars hadn't given her some Jedi reflexes. "You!" she shrieked at the prince, pointing at him accusingly and trembling with rage.

  
  


The prince looked as innocent as it was possible for a person to look-except for the fact that one of his feet was now shoeless, and the missing shoe had been kicked carefully under his chair.

  
  


When the hurlyburly following the realization of what had happened finally ended, Krista was sitting next to Amidala and a very steely-faced and sharp-finger-nailed Sache was next to the over-friendly Gerogonian prince. If Amidala had to try any harder not to dissolve into hysterical laughter, she might very well split the seams of her elaborate gown.

  
  


Krista sat, sulking, throughout the rest of the speech, knowing she was unfairly in disgrace and not liking it one bit. What kind of messed up galaxy was this, anyway, where she was punished for accusing-truthfully-some guy of trying to play footsie with her?

  
  


When Amidala's speech ended and the food came out, however, her mood lightened considerably. Despite being exotic-her friends had gotten rid of any fear she might have of new foods-it looked absolutely sumptuous, and she grinned in an almost predatory manner when a plate was set before her.

  
  


Of course, nothing in this place was as simple as it looked. In the very middle of her plate was a small, tightly curled, reptilian thing that looked like it might well still be alive. Disregarding this, she turned her attention to the small shelled creatures off to the side, decided these were too complicated, and eagerly began consuming the freshly baked bread and icy cold salad greens.

  
  


These devoured, she eyed her plate appraisingly-lizard or marbles?-before deciding on the latter.

  
  


However, her desire to eat them by no means had any relevance to her skill. Maneuvering the plate so they were in front of her, she braced one with her fork and sawed at it hopefully. Nada. Not to be defeated by a meal, she replaced the fork with a spoon and gave a hard downward slash at it, but only succeeded in slipping it a few centimeters to the side. She tried this several more times, and with each the tiny shell remained unmarked.

  
  


At last, her temper fraying, she slammed the edge of her knife down on the rebellious shell fiercely-and, in response, it shot like a bullet off of her plate and flew down and across the table . . .

  
  


With a feeling of absolute horror, Krista watched the Gerogonian King open his mouth to say something-and the shell that she had launched pop neatly into his open mouth and lodge in his throat.

  
  


Krista, for her part, was too stupefied to do more than remain motionless, her mouth agape, as the King choked, sputtered, and rose unsteadily to his feet, clutching at his throat. It took the other guests a few moments to realize the elderly man couldn't breathe, and then Panaka expertly performed the Heimlech maneuver on him.

  
  


The shell came flying out of his mouth and landed in an open space in the middle of the table, the shell, of course, neatly broken open.

  
  


No one seemed to know just how a shell had magically gotten stuck in the king's throat, and since no one accused her, Krista was none too keen to volunteer the information. Though several suspicious glances were shot her way, no one could prove anything, and so after several minutes the dinner resumed yet again.

  
  


Now on to the last dish on her plate: the repugnant lizard-thing. The last thing Krista wanted was to try and eat the little monster-but it would probably be considered an insult not to, or something equally catastrophic. Screwing up her resolve, she took her fork firmly in hand, summoned her courage, and gave it a firm poke-

  
  


-at which point it uncurled, sprang to its feet, extended a tiny rainbow-colored rill, and hissed at her menacingly.

  
  


It goes without saying that once again the chair was upended, Krista on the floor with panicked screams, and the other guests in a panic. However, this time the lizard made a beeline for none other than Rabe, seated at Krista's right, and launched itself unerringly onto her-and then, as she fell backward, screaming, it headed for the only safety it could find: down the front of her gown.

  
  


The pandemonium of the previous accidents was as nothing to what followed. The gallant Gerogonian prince, ever eager to help a damsel in distress, attempted to remove the lizard, but Sache leapt on him and beat him until he left the still screaming Rabe alone. As everyone else gathered around and attempted to be useful or either just witness the phenomenon, the unsurpassable Yare leapt on Rabe, swiftly slit the front of her dress with a steak knife as the onlooking crowd gasped in shock, and freed the lizard, who promptly fled into a nearby air duct. Fortunately, as Rabe was wearing no less than three layers under the dress itself, she wasn't revealing anything but a stiff corset to the astonished guests-but she still didn't stop screaming and babbling hysterically. The Gerogonian King, still disgruntled from his near-death experience, watched all with a glowering expression, and the prince was at last subdued after having been whooped by Sache.

  
  


All in all, Krista thought glumly as Amidala and Sabe led the still-blubbering Rabe away and beckoned the others to follow, her first night as a handmaiden hadn't exactly been what she'd call a rousing success.

  
  


Succumbing to the inevitable, she let her head droop as she followed the others out.


	5. Taking Charge somewhat

The door swung open and Danielle tumbled inside, somehow triumphantly. "Whew! Home at last. Not that it wasn't like the funnest thing I've done in a long time-I'm so glad our waitress told us about the Crystal District. For tourists, my foot! That was the coolest collection of shops I've ever seen, bar none!"

  
  


Qui-Gon, nearly invisible as he was under a mountain of shopping spoils, found he simply didn't have the energy to reply, so he merely collapsed and allowed himself to be buried.

  
  


Danielle set her own considerable heap of packages and bags on the floor, saying, "Now, we really should find a place to put all this. Since it seems I'm going to be with you for a while, I need a designated place to sleep, too. And since we somehow ended up with some things other than clothing, we'll need to-" So saying, she turned, only to stop short. There was a heap of packages, but no Jedi Master. "Qui-Gon?" she asked, surprised.

  
  


The pile of packages swayed ominously, and Danielle leapt back with a mild shriek. After a moment, her wits returned. "Qui-Gon? Is that . . . you?"

  
  


The mountain gave a great shake, and packages flew off, revealing the Jedi. "Never again," he said unsteadily, but with conviction.

  
  


"Beg pardon?"

  
  


"You heard me, you minx. I. Am. Never. Doing. This. Again."

  
  


Danielle's face fell slightly. "But it was fun, I thought. I mean-I had piles of fun. Didn't you?"

  
  


He froze, with that deer-in-headlights look again. "I-fun? Not-not really-"

  
  


Danielle was not fooled. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. "Ha! You did so have fun! First lunch-you laughed like you might never stop-"

  
  


Qui-Gon flushed. "All right. Lunch was fun, and tasty, and informative-"

  
  


"Then, at Marejjji's-in the sensor-activated fountain garden, out back-"

  
  


He gasped audibly. "How dare you use that as an example? They threw us out, and swore we'd never be allowed back, and that they'd contact the Jedi Temple to complain-"

  
  


"But, as I recall, at the time you didn't care, because you were laughing like a little girl and were quite happily every color of the rainbow from the special rainbow fountain that caught you-you know, when you tripped on the sensor rail-"

  
  


He wrinkled his nose at her. "I was 'laughing like a little girl', as you so aptly put it, because what they failed to inform us was that the deceptively pretty 'sparkly' fountain contained an extremely potent anti-depressant-an 'upper', if you will-that can be absorbed into the skin-and I, as I recall, was shoved into that fountain by yourself-"

  
  


"That was an accident! And the colors all came out in a few minutes-how was I to know the drugs wouldn't, too?"

  
  


"And then-when I was still high-you dragged me into-of all sadistic places-the modern art gallery, where I would have been insanely confused even if I wasn't extremely drugged, but since I was I thought the world was coming to an end-"

  
  


"But we found the gorgeous table there, and the rotating particle sculpture, and-"

  
  


"IT WAS NOT WORTH THE HUMILIATION!"

  
  


Danielle narrowed her eyes at him. "You know what your problem is? You have too much pride. You're so obsessed with being the Perfect Jedi, the Superior Role Model, that you can't even handle a little embarrassment! You have to shunt the blame onto myself, deny that you had any fun, and relegate the entire day as a Hideously Embarrassing Mistake! You seriously need to loosen up and stop being such an honor-obsessed, uptight fussbudget!"

  
  


Qui-Gon opened his mouth-but nothing came out. He simply stared limply at the aggravated young woman before him, absorbing the implications of the fact that she was totally, absolutely, correct.

  
  


After a long moment he rallied feebly. "But still-I represent the Jedi Temple. I should have-"

  
  


"Bah! You've represented them well enough and often enough to last several lifetimes. Today, you let loose, had a darn good time doing it, and by God you're going to admit it!"

  
  


For a long moment there was silence. At last, Qui-Gon muttered, "All right. Parts of the day were fun."

  
  


"Balderdash. The entire day was fun. Come on! You weren't still high when we went into the High Tech Party room at the music store-you danced like you'd been born to it!"

  
  


The Jedi Master went red again. "I-I-I couldn't help it! The floor that lit when you stepped on it-the wall with the silhouettes-the strobe lights-music everywhere, so loud I couldn't think properly-and that dizzying smoke, and all the glitter, everywhere-"

  
  


"We both still sparkle, even after the wind tunnel in the Mad House," Danielle remarked amusedly, examining herself. "Of course you couldn't help dancing. That was the entire point of the room. And we got an awesome new sound system at a great price-and you got to pick out some music crystals-and I bought that awesome collapsible harpsichord-whatsis-"

  
  


"Not harpsichord, for the hundredth time, harpsiforte. And yes, that was a wonderful bargain, even if I've no idea where we'll put it-"

  
  


"That's why it's collapsible, dear."

  
  


"Whatever. Well. I don't know how we ended up with food-and furniture-and musical instruments, of all things-and art-and . . . aren't there fish in this heap somewhere?"

  
  


"No, they're being delivered tomorrow with the new couch and the wall-sized mural and all the other stuff we couldn't carry. But we did get a lot of clothes, which is what we went for. Besides, you needed some stuff to spruce this place up. You'd think it was a hotel room, from as little as you've personalized it. When you were 'high', as you so quaintly put it, you lost a lot of inhibitions and actually told me what stuff you liked, so it's not like I picked everything-"

  
  


"What in the name of all the gods will Obi-Wan think?" Qui-Gon moaned.

  
  


"I think he'll be shocked half to death, but will appreciate the changes we have wrought," Danielle said with great dignity. "I mean, we got so many beautiful things-the chandelier, the rugs-and, do you remember, we were the thousandth customer in the door at the florists, we get a fresh bouquet of exotic flowers once a week for a lifetime, and they gave us that gorgeous vase to put them in-"

  
  


"Force help me, I'd forgotten the flowers. I remember the caterers, though. I forget why they offered you free cooking lessons and daily delicacies-"

  
  


"Because they idolize Jedi, and none had ever visited them before, especially not with the intent to buy anything. They were so flattered Wolfgang himself came out to meet you in tears-luckily, you weren't high anymore by that time-"

  
  


He shook his head despairingly. "And all the art supplies-"

  
  


"You said yourself Obi-Wan needs a hobby. Now he can paint, sketch, sculpt, play harpsiforte, and create culinary masterpieces, or even arrange flowers. And he'll have all the new arty stuff to inspire him, and your music, too. Oh, yeah-I forgot the composer program for your terminal-and the channels-"

  
  


Qui-Gon moaned. "Danielle, what are you doing to me? I feel-somewhere between violated, humbled, overjoyed, and enlightened. It's like-like the Force is speaking to me in a whole new way. I can't fathom . . ." His voice trailed off as he realized Danielle was smiling at him gently. How odd, he thought randomly. The same smile that could be so terrifying could also be so . . . beautiful.

  
  


"I'm bringing you to life, dear," she said softly. "You've been just kind of obliviously drifting along, being nothing and no one but a Jedi, denying yourself every aspect of living. I know some things are forbidden to you, but this-" she gestured expansively at all their packages, "-along with all the things you did today that you've never done before, all that money you had that you'd never thought to spend . . . It's like you're waking up after a long time asleep. You're living Qui-Gon. It's terrifying, bewildering, battering, and exhausting, I know, but-isn't it beautiful?"

  
  


For a moment total silence reigned, and Qui-Gon stared at Danielle like she were the living embodiment of the Force itself. "So it is, Danielle," he said at last, wonderingly. "So it is." Then he grinned. "And I owe it all to my little enigma."

  
  


Danielle just opened her arms, as though she were the wise and comforting master and he the lost and homeless waif. And he, no longer one to question their respective roles, went into her embrace willingly, and in it knew a completion like no other.

  
  
  
  


It took the better part of three days to unpack, arrange, rearrange, return, argue over, misplace, find, and get used to all the new additions to their little apartment. It was indeed a transformation. When they were done, it was hardly recognizable.

  
  


The once-bare floors were now adorned with a variety of throw rugs, jeweled inlets, and brilliant tiles, some of which changed colors when trod upon. The walls were coated with art (paintings, sculptures, curios, fascinating clocks, etc.), but somehow not clutteringly so; they gave off an impression of busyness but not chaos. The kitchen, once bare of all but the absolute necessities, was now stuffed to overflowing with exotic, wholesome, unique, or downright sinful foodstuffs, and a bizarre plethora of cooking utensils, as well as its own share of interior decorations. The ceiling of the living room had been given wooden support struts, carved to be works of art themselves, and atop them grew plants that cared for themselves: fly traps that caught any unwelcome residents, blooming violet flowers that smelled like champagne, herbs that could be cut and used in food. Among these were nestled glowing white lights, and crystals hung at random intervals as well, refracting the light all over the room. The musical setup had speakers scattered the room and could provide ambience at a voice command any time day or night. A huge, gorgeous antique couch reminiscent of Earth's Victorian furniture had the spotlight position in the middle of the room while supporting a bevy of luxurious pillows and throws, and a glass table comprised of machinery that kept colored glass balls in constant, noiseless motion sat innocuously in front of it, whirring busily away. Even the bedrooms had not been spared-they too were art-coated, with new sheets, rugs, furniture, and clothing for everyone, even the non-present Obi-Wan. Danielle had really and truly converted it from a 'home base' where they refueled but didn't really live to a home, personal, eclectic, and more than a little magical.

  
  


She was prouder than words could express. If only the others could see her now! She had clothing like she'd never dreamed-boots, cloaks, dresses, robes, sandals, scarves, everything under the sun, jewelry (though not much), amenities, and such a beautiful place to live-it was like a dream come true. All it required for perfections was her friends . . . and a cat. Home was not home for Danielle without a cat, she thought wistfully. Perhaps one could be attained . . .

  
  


When they'd finally finished and acknowledged their apartment had reached mutual perfection, they took a celebratory drink Danielle had gotten the recipe for-spiced chilled Anaro juice-out on the balcony, reclined in their new lawn chairs, and admired their handiwork through the open glass doors.

  
  


"It's . . . stunning," Qui-Gon said, in total awe.

  
  


Danielle just sipped her juice serenely. "Yes, it is."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


For a moment, Annie was sure that if she pinched herself hard enough, she would wake up.

  
  


She could not be here, on stage, in this ridiculous getup, supposed to be singing in a few moments. It just-it just wasn't possible!

  
  


Well, even if she was dreaming, she didn't want to humiliate herself. So, drawing again on that store of sheer nerve she hadn't even known she possessed, she lifted her chin, threw back her shoulders, and strode to the waiting microphone with every ounce of panache she possessed.

  
  


Every eye was on her, and even though that probably amounted to a total of no more than fifty, it was enough to dry up all her saliva instantly and send hot and cold chills all over her body. However, she heard herself saying, as if from a distance, "Sorry, friends, the incomparable Cassandra is ill-poor darling has heat stroke. Tonight, you'll have to make do with my inferior skills instead. So, relax, nurse those drinks, and enjoy the music!"

  
  


She shot a glance at the band, all of whom winked or grinned at her approvingly. Feeling slightly relieved that she hadn't botched anything yet, she nodded-and the music started.

  
  


Keeping her eyes strictly fixed on the wall across the way and the words materializing there, she forced her mouth to open and words to emerge.

  
  


"So that's what I said, I said love ain't no dream; it's real as this life, no matter how strange it seems."

  
  


The words may have been slightly croaky, off-pitch, and quieter than normal, but at least she was coherent and audible. Drawing in a huge breath, she kept reading, forcing her volume to increase and her voice to not tremble.

  
  


"This dream that we're livin', this joy that we've found, it's a magical feeling, known the galaxy 'round."

  
  


She must be doing better; the band was embellishing a little and some of the patrons had begun to nod their heads in time to the music. Summoning her courage, she put on hand on a hip and even began to sway a little.

  
  


"A daydream we wake to, as days pass us by; I don't know much but I know this dream's no lie."

  
  


Now for the chorus. Praying for a sudden gift of vocal talent, she pulled the microphone out of its stand and began to sing passionately into it, a la Diana Ross or some other such diva.

  
  


"Sweet dreamin', it's a whole way of life. A new religion-husband and wife. A kinda magic-it's perfectly true . . . It's no daydream, I truly love you."

  
  


Annie dared to open her eyes-and saw that Cassandra, who had snuck down the stairs across the way from her, was grinning and giving her two thumbs up. Stunned that she might actually be doing well, a little more adrenalin flooded into her veins and she really started to get into it.

  
  


The song ended with a crescendo, and Annie, offering up a silent prayer to God, just flung up an arm and went with it-and, to no one's surprise more than her own, emitted a sweet and only slightly wavering note of pure perfection.

  
  


When it was over, she stopped, panting, and realized that she was being applauded. Not with any marked enthusiasm, but no one was booing or laughing either. She'd-she'd done it. She'd pulled it off. She could sing.

  
  


Then, the band struck up another song, and it dawned on her that the night was just beginning.

  
  


Halfway into her sixth song, just as she was starting to be able to ignore the crowd and enjoy herself, the door burst open-and an entire squad of stormtroopers entered.

  
  


In her shock, she missed an entire line, but when one turned to look at her, she picked right up on the next one, and no one seemed to even notice anything. Fixing her vision on the prompter and nothing else, she sang and danced her heart out-nearly literally. Her vision was spotted, her ears were ringing, and her whole body was shaking. She had no doubt that her singing was suffering, but the stormtroopers didn't even spare her a second glance. They swept throughout the entire bar, behind the counter, upstairs, even backstage-and then, with a last contemptuous glance and a brisk nod to Essra, who'd watched them, hawk-like, the entire time, they left.

  
  


She'd pulled it off. She'd really and truly fooled them. Across the room, she saw Cassandra and Essra exchange a tight hug of triumph, and relief made her giddy. She threw herself into singing with a new fervor, and this time, when she was done, she even got some whistles.

  
  


After that, she could have gone on singing the whole night. She was safe. She'd managed it. She was singing reasonably well. Now she had a place-allies-even a job. She could look for a way out of this mess without risking her life daily.

  
  


After some time had elapsed, she was filled with such unreal euphoria that she did something she would never fully understand-so she turned to the band and said, "I'd like to try something you guys probably don't know. Do you suppose you could keep up with me? It pretty much follows the melody of the words, with the occasional fanfare at appropriate moments. I bet you could figure it out. Wanna try?"

  
  


They exchanged amused glances. "Anything for you, dearie," the keyboardist said with a wink.

  
  


Annie grinned. "I love you guys. Well . . . here goes nothing!"

  
  


Returning to the mike, she smiled down at her expectant audience. "Be patient with us; we're going to try a little experiment. This is a song I'll bet none of you have ever heard-but I hope you'll love. So . . ." And she signaled the music.

  
  


As requested, they started out with a little introductory spiel in the key she'd requested, and she took a deep breath and started singing.

  
  
  
  


Jeremiah was a bullfrog

Was a good friend of mine

I never understood a single word he said

But I helped him to drink his wine-

He always had some mighty fine wine!

  
  
  
  


A wave of surprised murmuring swept over the bar's patrons, and many who'd formerly ignored her looked up and fixed her with intent glances. Swallowing, Annie continued, hoping she wasn't making a serious mistake.

  
  


Taking a deep breath, she swept on.

  
  
  
  


Joy to the world

All the boys and girls

Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea

Joy to you and me!

  
  
  
  


Absolutely everyone was listening now, she noted. No, not just listening; they were riveted. Even Jiano, at the bar, had stopped cleaning the counter to stare at her, transfixed.

  
  


Feeling a little more certain of herself, she plunged ahead. 

  
  
  
  


If I was the king of the world

I tell you what I'd do

I throw away the bars, and the cars, and the wars

And make sweet love to you.

  
  
  
  


The band by this point had picked up on her tune and when they could elaborate, and were apparently having the time of their lives doing so. Many people in the audience were bobbing in time now, or swaying, or mouthing the rather easy lyrics.

  
  
  
  


Joy to the world

All the boys and girls

Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea

Joy to you and me!

  
  
  
  


Feeling encouraged, she continued, and with the last repetition of the chorus she had most of the bar singing along. When she finally finished, triumphantly, she stopped and waited-and then noise erupted over the bar.

  
  


Among the shouts and whistles, she could barely discern shouts of "More! More!" and "Brava!" Apparently, her technique had worked.

  
  


"You'd like another?" she asked sweetly.

  
  


The tidal wave of noise was response enough for Annie.

  
  


After another quick discussion with both the band and the light operators, she humbly walked back to the mike, bowed her head, and waited for her intro.

  
  


Ignoring the anticipatory whistles, she listened until the appropriate note, then began:

  
  
  
  


At first I was afraid, I was petrified . . .

Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side

But then I spent so many nights in thinking how you did me wrong . . . 

And I grew strong

And I learned how to get along . . .

  
  
  
  


They liked this was already. Even Essra was grinning in open astonishment as the audience moved closer to the stage to hear her better, totally enraptured.

  
  
  
  


So now you're back 

From outer space

I just walked in to find you here with that sad upon your face

I should have changed that stupid lock

I should have made you leave your key

If I'd've known for just one second you'd be back to bother me . . .

  
  
  
  


The band was seriously getting into it now; she could tell they were dancing around behind her and trying to anticipate her next move. The lights kept slowly getting brighter and someone had, very appropriately, turned on the Star Wars equivalent of a disco ball. Brace yourselves, she thought giddily, the best is yet to come . . .

  
  
  
  


Go on, now, go!

Walk out the door! 

Just turn around now, cuz you're not welcome any more!

Weren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye?

Did you think I'd crumble?

Did you think I'd lay down and die? 

Oh no, not I . . . I will survive! 

As long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive! 

I've got all my life to live, and I've got all my love to give

And I'll survive, I will survive!

  
  
  
  


The crowd went absolutely insane. Cassandra mimed fainting. Annie couldn't believe she was actually up her, doing this, singing this well-and having the time of her life.

  
  


This time, when she finished the song, the patrons surged up to the edge of the stage, blowing kisses and demanding more. She would have happily obliged, but she was abruptly aware of the bass guitarist behind her snatching the microphone.

  
  


"I'm so sorry, folks, but that's all we have time for tonight. Yeah, yeah, I know-but she'll be here tomorrow! And, if you tell enough of your friends, maybe the day after that! Who knows how long she might keep singing if enough people keep coming? It's entirely up to you! So bring some flowers, buy some drinks, and spread the word! The hottest music in the town is at Essra's Nightclub, every evening from eight to midnight! So long, folks!" And, so saying, he took Annie around the shoulders and forcibly dragged her away from her worshipful audience.

  
  


Backstage, Essra and Cassandra awaited her with incredulous grins and applause. "Girl, that was magnificent!" Cassandra exclaimed. "I've never heard such music in all my years. And the audience-they loved it! Do you know more stuff like that?"

  
  


"Of course," Annie said, still dazed. "I can write some of it down for you guys-I'm not very good with music, but I can try-"

  
  


"Write it down?" Essra said, puzzled. "Why would you need to write it down?"

  
  


"So you can play it after I've left."

  
  


"What?" Cassandra exclaimed, taking Annie's hands. "Girl, after what you just did to that audience, do you seriously think we're letting you out of our sight?"

  
  


Annie, realizing what they were saying, gave them both a stunned look. "D'you mean-"

  
  


"Do you have anywhere else to stay?"

  
  


Annie shook her head slowly.

  
  


"Then your home is with us now, if you like. Our doors are always open to you, and Cassie has 

an extra cot in her room, don't you, dear?"

  
  


"And you are more than welcome to it."

  
  


Annie shyly smiled back. "I-I don't know what to say."

  
  


Essra smiled. "Welcome home, dear."

  
  
  
  
  
  


"Never-never-in all my years of living-have I laughed that hard," Amidala wheezed.

  
  


Krista, seated on a couch in the corner, frowned more deeply than before, but said nothing.

  
  


"The king-choking on that little shell-the prince trying to come on to you-the lizard still alive-" Amidala choked, obviously fighting a relapse. "Oh, God-"

  
  


"I think Rabe's permanently traumatized," Sache remarked drily. "Not that I blame her, though. 

If my dinner had come to life and attacked me and leapt down my dress, I'd be a raving lunatic by this point."

  
  


In point of fact, Rabe was still in the other room, being comforted by the stalwart Yare. She hadn't ceased gibbering yet, and might not for some time, despite Yare's compassionate care.

  
  


"But it wasn't her dinner," Eirtae pointed out, looking very sorrowful. "It was Kristae's dinner."

  
  


"It did seem to be Kristae's night in the spotlight, didn't it?" Sabe asked, helping take the Queen's hair down. "The hiccoughs, the prince, the lizard-"

  
  


"At least the King choking wasn't your fault," Sache said, a malicious gleam in her incredibly blue eyes.

  
  


Krista suddenly found the ceiling immensely fascinating.

  
  


"Well, you certainly seem to have made an impression on Prince Edouard," Amidala said, recovering somewhat. "So much for him wanting to court me."

  
  


Krista glared daggers at the young queen. "Oh, easy enough for you to laugh at; you didn't have to endure it."

  
  


"And you're not done enduring it. After the negotiations tomorrow, there's to be another feast, and a dance."

  
  


Krista choked. "A dance?"

  
  


"Yes. You know, music plays, you find a partner, and you move in time to it. Dancing."

  
  


"Yes, thank you for the definition, now all I need are instructions," Krista said sarcastically.

  
  


They all looked at her wide-eyed. "You mean . . . you don't remember how to dance?" Eirtae asked wonderingly.

  
  


"Just like I don't remember how to get dressed properly, or courtly manners, or how to get those damn shellfish open-"

  
  


Sabe laughed. "Does anyone really know how to do that?"

  
  


Amidala looked at her seriously. "So you need dancing, banquet, and politics 101?"

  
  


"That's right."

  
  


"Well, I think we can manage. Sache here is our resident physical expert, so she'll handle the dancing."

  
  


Sache bounded to her feet. "Before all of that, however, I think you should get a little self-defense training. You've forgotten that, too, haven't you?"

  
  


Krista brightened. "That's right."

  
  


"Okay, that's pretty important. Next time some attractive royal young man tries to grope you, you'll be able to put him in the dirt. Tomorrow, we can take you to a range and give you some shooting practice."

  
  


"Awesome," Krista said, ecstatic. Maybe this whole Handmaiden bit wasn't going to suck as much as she'd feared.

  
  


"So, first off-self defense," Sache said enthusiastically. "Get up here, this isn't a spectator sport. Now, if-"

  
  


"Sache!" Amidala said reprovingly, stopping the handmaiden mid-instruction. "This is not the time or place for such an instruction. Wait until Kristae's out of her dress, and refreshed, and you have plenty of room to move without killing anyone or anything, then give her instructions. Tonight, dance."

  
  


Sache grinned and saluted. "Yes, your highness! All right, girly, get off your pretty little behind and get up here." Krista did as she was ordered, grinning insanely. "Now: the conventional waltz. You get to play my partner, so I suppose I'll be the hunky male in all these. This one's really simple; all you have to remember is that you always start with your left foot, the one step is a rock, not a real step, and that it's all based on four-four time."

  
  


Krista, a surprisingly enthusiastic learner, was just beginning to get the hang of the basics and learn how to spin while holding her skirt attractively aloft when the door chimed. Breaking off their practice, the girls watched as Eirtae went to open the door. "Yes?"

  
  


A small, shifty-looking courier in bright Gerogonian pink stood there. "A message for the lady Kristae," he said sullenly.

  
  


Feeling suddenly disgusted, Krista walked over, ripped it open, and read it in growing horror. She imagined that ripping it to shreds wouldn't go over well, so she merely clutched it tightly in her hand and said sweetly, "Could you inform the prince that I am busy this evening and cannot see him? Thanks ever so much. Bubbye now!" She shut the door, almost rudely, in his face.

  
  


"What's up?" Amidala asked, intrigued.

  
  


Now Krista did shred the letter, disgustedly. "Mr. Gerogonian Prince wanted me to take a moonlit stroll in the garden with him."

  
  


The other handmaidens burst into laughter. "That boy really has it bad for you, doesn't he?" Sache asked, amused.

  
  


Krista glared at them. "I don't see what's so funny about all this."

  
  


"You wouldn't, but we, being the impartial observers, are free to realize it's funny as hell," Sache fired back. "Our amnesiac handmaiden has a stalker! It sounds like some kind of terrible holo-film."

  
  


You have no idea, Krista thought, vastly amused herself now. "Geez, no kidding. So tell me, girls; how do I get rid of this creep?"

  
  


"Give him to me," was Sabe's succinct suggestion, which elicited another round of laughter.

  
  


"I'll do my best," Krista promised, rolling her eyes. "But first I have to get him off my tail. I suppose I could act really stupid, or make myself ugly, or something else to make myself unattractive."

  
  


"Just be yourself," was Sache's cheerful suggestion, for which she received a pillow in her face.

  
  


"Continue with the dancing lessons," Amidala said regally. She fixed Krista with an intent stare. "You want to be prepared for tomorrow, don't you? In every way that you can . . ."

  
  


For a moment Krista simply stared at her, then she nodded slowly. "Yes . . . your majesty." Amidala was right. Not only did she want to be able to dance, she wanted to be done learning that so she could also learn self-defense . . . which was far more important.

  
  
  
  


By the time the evening was through, Krista could waltz, manage a weak tango, and do something that reminded her of old English dances or country reels called a Promenada. When she woke up the next morning (an unpleasant experience, since Sache dragged her out of her sumptuous featherbed by the ears just after dawn, forced her to get dressed and choke down a mug of coffee-like fluid, and stumble into the world), she was dragged into another saccharinely beautiful meadow for her first self-defense lessons.

  
  


"The trick to being a lady," Sache told her promptly, before Krista was even fully awake, "is having secrets. You can act, I assume?" She paused a moment, then smiled uncertainly "This is so strange, asking you things that I knew you knew just two days ago, you know? Anyway. You need to be able to simpler and twitter at a man like you're overawed by his superior skills while silently snickering that you know every scandal his family's had in a century and that you could gut him in two seconds."

  
  


Krista's eyes popped. "Gut him?"

  
  


Sache shrugged expansively. "Well, that's a little extreme, I'll admit, but you'll have the skills nonetheless. See, not only am I going to pound weaponless defense moves into you in the course of the day, you're going to get minor weapons training, too."

  
  


"Kickass!" Krista returned happily, at which Sache frowned. "Yes, it is, but remember: you are a lady. Ladies, my dear, do not cuss. They do not have embarrassing bodily functions. They have exquisite table manners and do not scratch themselves, pick their noses, or bite their nails in public. They know which fork is used to eat which dish and how to make smalltalk with a creature who speaks another language. They can dance-"

  
  


"Stop," Krista wailed. "You're intimidating me. I'll never learn all this!"

  
  


"You knew it before," Sache said implacably. Then she gave an evil grin. "Besides, it's only my job to teach you self-defense. Yare will probably give you the etiquette, and then Eirtae will drill the politics into you. Soon you'll be a proper handmaiden again."

  
  


Krista grimaced. "I had no idea there was so much to it."

  
  


Sache gave her an odd look, and Krista mentally smacked her forehead. No prior knowledge of any of this, remember? she chided herself silently. You're an amnesiac, not a girl from another galaxy!

  
  


"Well," Sache said, "here's a rough outline of the day. I have you until about three, and then Yare gets you for the mannerly stuff. The politics can wait until another day, thank the Force. For starters, you'll learn how to get away from someone who grabs you, the most vulnerable spots on the human body, and a few dirty tricks that you should never hesitate to employ when overpowered. Then we'll teach you how a proper lady also always keeps a knife in her stockings and carries a fan that doubles as a switchblade, along with many other personal specifications. The Queen's huge adornments have another purpose-there's always a semi-automatic somewhere on her person. Yare's infamous for her skill with the laser-whip she likes to tuck into her sleeve. Rabe always slips a cannister of petrifying spray into her bodice. You always had a tiny blaster in an arm holster, whenever your dress permitted."

  
  


"Wow . . . I think I remember that," Krista bluffed. "But that's awesome. I would never have guessed that we were so prepared for anything. What do you carry?"

  
  


Sache gave a dazzlingly sweet smile. "I know the location of roughly sixty galdeckas hidden throughout the building disguised as ornamental staffs-one of which I carry with me when we travel-or chair backs, or inside hollow columns. Once an assassin came into the queen's bedchamber at night, about six months ago. I was nearest the window, which was her method of entry, and a single blow from my galdecka took her down instantly. Pity about the wallpaper-it was a lovely shade."

  
  


Krista was torn between being impressed and shocked at this gruesome side to the prim and pretty little handmaidens she'd always pictured. "Cool. But-what's a galdecka-whatsis?"

  
  


Sache's expression was grimly satisfied. "A four foot long wooden staff with a double-bladed end. I keep mine sharp enough to hack through durasteel."

  
  


For a moment Krista was silent, pondering the implications of this. Somehow, her little excursion into a nonexistent universe wasn't feeling nearly as much like a game as it had before. While something in her rebelled at the thought of taking lives (especially gutting people), knowing how to defend herself would be infinitely useful, and it would certainly help her find Qui-Gon in one piece (if she ever got started looking for him, that is . . .)

  
  


Finally, she took a deep breath, and said, "All right. Teach me how to defend my life and my Queen."

  
  


With a huge grin, Sache complied.


	6. The plot THICKENS!

Danielle had just returned when Obi-Wan arrived. She'd spent the day in the creche (her absolute favorite part of the Temple) playing with the adorable youngsters, and had just returned, dressed, and showered, and was now waiting while Qui-Gon fixed dinner (it was his turn tonight). She was reclining serenely on the couch, reading one of the new datapads (a novel entitled "The Wizard's Jewel" whose plot seemed strangely familiar), when he came in. Qui-Gon was in the kitchen, humming completely without skill as he prepared one of the recipes he had recently learned to create, and so was closer to the door.

  
  


Danielle heard the door open and looked up, surprised. It was only when she heard the thump of something hitting the floor and the indrawn gasp of breath that she smiled sweetly, realizing what was happening.

  
  


"What in the Force . . . ?" Obi-Wan stammered, audible even two rooms away.

  
  


Qui-Gon hurried to the door to greet him. "Padawan! I'm so glad you've finally returned. How was the mission?"

  
  


"The mission be damned," Obi-Wan said weakly, obviously overwhelmed at the new decor. "What happened to our apartment?"

  
  


Qui-Gon stammered a bit as his padawan goggled at a tank which seemed to be full of . . . fish? "I . . . well . . . we visited the Crystal District . . . we've never used half of the money we're allowed . . . we were supposed to be clothes shopping-you have lots of new clothes, too, by the way . . . somehow we got carried away and went on a redecorating splurge, too . . . I think it started when I was still drugged . . ."

  
  


"Wait," Obi-Wan said suspiciously, drawing his gaze away from the fish when one of them, staring back at him, seemed to smile, displaying extremely large teeth. . "Who's 'we'?"

  
  


Danielle could hear their footsteps drawing nearer, but didn't look up from the datapad she was reading. The main character was in the middle of a showdown with the evil Lord Darkdeath, and she wanted to make sure he lived.

  
  


Qui-Gon said gently, an undeniable hint of mischief in his voice, "I wasn't able to contact you while you were on the mission, so you didn't hear. We have a new addition to our household, my young padawan."

  
  


"Oh, Force," Obi-Wan groaned, rounding the corner. "Please tell me you haven't picked up another pathetic . . ." He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the young woman stretched languorously over the sofa, still reading. "Lifeform," he finished at last, shocked.

  
  


Danielle looked up at last and pinned him with an intense, dark-eyed gaze. "Hello. You must be Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon's told me a lot about you."

  
  


Qui-Gon, appearing in the doorway behind his apprentice, rolled his eyes dramatically, and Danielle fought the urge to grin. She kept her expression solemn, however, as Obi-Wan looked disconcerted, obviously wondering what Qui-Gon had told her about him and just why a young woman was in their apartment anyway. "Er . . . nice to meet you as well," he said. "You are . . . ?"

  
  


"Danielle," she said, setting aside her datapad and rising gracefully. She walked across the room to him and formally extended a hand, which he shook hesitantly. "I'm afraid the Council made me Qui-Gon's new ward."

  
  


"I found her outside the Temple, unconscious and injured in the streets," Qui-Gon informed his padawan. "It turns out the poor girl has amnesia. We took her before the Council, and they decided that since she has some Force sensitivity, she should stay with us until she regains her memory and learn a little of the ways of the Force."

  
  


"I'm sorry about the apartment," Danielle said solemnly. "There were just so many beautiful things in the Crystal District, and it was so . . . so emotionless before. I thought it needed a few improvements. So . . ." She waved her arms expansively. "Voila. The New Apartment. I apologize if you-"

  
  


"What are you talking about?" he interrupted shamelessly, grinning. "I love it. I've never seen anything like it. The rugs . . . the fish . . . How in the galaxy did you convince my old stick of a Master to do it?"

  
  


For a moment Danielle stared into his sea-blue eyes . . . and she suddenly knew why everyone had been hinting and grinning when their meeting was referenced. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she had found a brother, a kindred soul, a partner in crime. This young man before her was a missing piece of her soul . . . and damn, what fun they'd have together.

  
  


Ignoring the strange stirring of premonition in her mind she suspected might be the Force talent she was accused of having, she suddenly matched him grin for grin. "Well, I shoved him in a fountain whose water had drugs that seep through the skin, then when he was high I made him buy all the stuff he wouldn't have normally."

  
  


Obi-Wan doubled over laughing as Qui-Gon retorted, "After you took me to the modern art museum, you sadistic girl!" Danielle gave him her best innocent look as Obi-Wan recovered somewhat, wiping at his eyes. "By the Force, what did we do to deserve her?" he asked his master breathlessly.

  
  


As Danielle preened shamelessly, Qui-Gon battled with an emotion he suspected might have been jealousy. "I found her in the street, remember. And she specifically chose me to stay with and be trained by."

  
  


"The fact that you were his padawan simply made this choice all the more irresistible," Danielle purred, winking at Obi-Wan.

  
  


In response, he took her hand and kissed it gallantly, blue eyes filled to overflowing with mischief. "I am unworthily honored, my lady Danielle."

  
  


Danielle inclined her head serenely, a trick of Laura's she now deliberately mimicked. "No, my dear Jedi, I am quite sure you will prove your worth in time."

  
  


Qui-Gon, peeved at being left out, interrupted sharply, "Dinner's ready."

  
  


Obi-Wan offered Danielle his arm, as though he were escorting her to a ball, and with another wink she accepted it. At the table, he pulled out her chair for her, then, noticing Qui-Gon's glowering expression, whispered in our ear, "If I'm not mistaken, my Master appears to be quite fond of you. I believe my presence is . . . resented."

  
  


Danielle whispered back, "I'm just irresistible like that."

  
  


Obi-Wan grinned and stood upright. "I've noticed," he said in a normal tone of voice, causing Qui-Gon to glare at them both all the more. "All right, you two," he growled. "Enough of that. Just eat your dinner."

  
  


Obi-Wan and Danielle exchanged a glance-and burst into laughter.

  
  
  
  


Dinner was a study in random, inapropos conversation that would have left an outside observer totally bewildered.

  
  


"What is this?" Obi-Wan asked in astonishment when Qui-Gon set his plate before him. He looked at it almost accusingly, as though it were some sort of trick or trap his Master was perpetrating.

  
  


"Dinner," Qui-Gon said with smug pride.

  
  


"Well, thank you, I noticed that," Obi-Wan returned drily. "I meant, since when do you cook? And gourmet, exotic foods, no less?"

  
  


"Since this little flesh-bound tempest," he gestured at Danielle with the ladle, "forced her way into my life."

  
  


The flesh-bound tempest responded by throwing a tiny fruit at him, which the Jedi used the Force to keep from hitting him, then looped it directly into his open mouth. "Cheater," she accused.

  
  


He grinned at her unrepentantly. "Give me two weeks and you'll know how to do it, too."

  
  


"Heaven forbid," she said with feeling, but Qui-Gon merely laughed.

  
  


"So what all did we purchase a few days ago?" Obi-Wan asked, amused.

  
  


"Well . . . there's the clothing-for all of us-the furniture . . . the art . . . the food . . . the fish . . ."

  
  


"Speaking of the fish," Obi-Wan said as casually as he was capable, "how much did you research the kinds you bought?"

  
  


Danielle and Qui-Gon exchanged eloquent glances. Danielle's said, 'Did we research at all? I think not,' and Qui-Gon's retorted with, 'Since some of us were high during the time of fish-purchasing, I would think that responsibility would fall to the other members of the shopping party.'

  
  


Aloud, Danielle said, "Uh . . . not very much. Why?"

  
  


"Because . . . because I think one of them is a Nubian gumba fish."

  
  


The other two gave him totally blank looks.

  
  


"Well," Obi-Wan huffed, "judging by the alignment of its scales, the protruding jaw, and the exceptionally large incisors-"

  
  


"Fish-freak," Qui-Gon muttered, earning him a glare from the younger man.

  
  


"As I was saying," Obi-Wan continued with great dignity, "the gumba fish is generally known for . . . well . . . its unnatural abilites."

  
  


Danielle choked on her dinner. "Unnatural abilities?" she managed at last. "I thought that was your department."

  
  


"It's the gumba fish's as well, obviously," Qui-Gon said, looking unnerved. "But 'unnatural abilities' is a very vague term. Be more specific, please?"

  
  


"Well," Obi-Wan really looked like he was fighting not to grin, "they're known to be telekinetic."

  
  


Qui-Gon inhaled a small fruit and Danielle dropped her fork. "They're what?"

  
  


"You heard me. They can mentally manipulate objects up to fifty feet away, including themselves."

  
  


For a moment no one spoke. Then, hardly realizing what she was doing, Danielle dropped her head in her arms and laughed until she sobbed, unable to believe what she was hearing.

  
  


Qui-Gon, however, was more practical. "'Including themselves'? Exactly which of our fish is the telekinetic one, anyway?"

  
  


Now Obi-Wan could no longer fight his amusement. "The two-foot long one with buggy eyes and, as I believe I mentioned before, really big teeth." He paused a moment for dramatic effect. "Did I mention that they have lungs as well as gills, and can breathe perfectly well out of water?"

  
  


If Danielle had not already been laughing as hard as was humanly possible, this would have pushed her to that point. Qui-Gon was not nearly so amused. "Do you mean to tell me that our giant carnivorous fish is fully capable of just levitating itself out of the fish tank and floating wherever it pleases?"

  
  


"Pretty much. I'd be nice to it, if I were you."

  
  


Danielle recovered some breath. "I don't think we were going to eat all of the meat for dinner, were we, Qui-Gon? Perhaps our giant bug-eyed magical fish would like some, so it doesn't decide to eat us in the middle of the night instead."

  
  


"Perhaps it would," he returned, looking shaken.

  
  


"Anyway," Obi-Wan said after a moment, looking very pleased with himself for knowing more about their fish purchases than they did. "Weren't you telling me about the rest of what you bought?"

  
  


"Oh, yeah," Qui-Gon said, blinking. "I told you about all the stuff we bought, I think; we were given the cooking lessons and the weekly bouquet of flowers . . . I dunno. Is that all, Danielle?"

  
  


"We bought some other stuff. The harpsiforte. Music lessons, computer programs, music crystals, speakers . . . uh . . . I think that about gets it all."

  
  


"Good lord," Obi-Wan said, astonished. "Did you empty the Temple Treasury, or what?"

  
  


Danielle shrugged. "We got really good bargains on everything, and we only got thrown out of two places."

  
  


Obi-Wan choked on his food while Qui-Gon glared at Danielle. "Both of those, I might point out, were entirely her fault."

  
  


"At least I didn't hand-pick the giant telekinetic fish!" she retorted, and received a Force-pinch by way of reply.

  
  


"Do you fence?" Obi-Wan asked suddenly.

  
  


Danielle blinked, then grinned at him. "Not yet."

  
  


"Good," he returned, also grinning wickedly. "You won't find a better teacher, except for Master Yoda himself. I am the best fencer in this Temple."

  
  


"And modest, too," Qui-Gon said drily.

  
  


"Why be modest when you're telling the truth?" Danielle asked, and Obi-Wan laughed his agreement.

  
  


Qui-Gon shot her a look. "And how would you know what kind of a fencer he is?"

  
  


Danielle was about to retort that anyone who could kick Sith Lords' butts and train the One and Only Luke Skywalker certainly deserved a little praise, then realized that probably wasn't a smart idea. Instead, she piped up, "Do you sing?"

  
  


Instead of giving a simple yes or no as a normal person would, Obi-Wan burst into song, shocking Qui-Gon nearly to death. His rich tenor carried the unfamiliar words easily, as Danielle well remembered from Moulin Rouge.

  
  


"Just wait," she said with an evil grin when he'd finished. "I'll teach you songs that will suit your voice to perfection."

  
  


He looked at her in surprise. "Know a lot about singing, do we?"

  
  


"Oh, yes. And I think I'll be able to work with your voice pretty well." And it would be priceless to get to hear Your Song et al in the flesh, she added silently. It was the closest she'd come to hearing back-home style music.

  
  


"Why does something tell me," Qui-Gon said morosely, "that the two of you are not going to be good for each other?"

  
  


"Could be those little midichlorians you have swimming around somewhere inside of you," Obi-Wan suggested.

  
  


"Or the psychic fish in the living room," was Danielle's pert observation.

  
  


Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. "May the Force have mercy on me."

  
  


"Amen," Danielle and Obi-Wan said in unison.

  
  
  
  


Later that night, when she believed the other two members of the household to be in bed (she'd been given the guest room), Danielle wandered out onto the balcony to contemplate the stars.

  
  


She didn't know how long she'd been out there, leaning against the rail and wondering about the sudden madness which was now her life, when she heard the soft sound of the sliding door shutting and knew someone was behind her.

  
  


"Enjoying the night air?" Obi-Wan asked softly.

  
  


Danielle didn't turn. "Thinking," she replied equally quietly. "There's a lot to think about, let me tell you."

  
  


He was silent for so long that she finally turned to see him staring at her intently, almost awed, with those jeweled blue eyes. "Who are you, really?" he whispered.

  
  


Danielle simply smiled. "Does it really matter?"

  
  


For a moment he stared at her, eyes wide, before breaking into another grin like the dawn. "No. I suppose it doesn't, since you're here with us, now."

  
  


"Where I belong," Danielle said, surprising both of them.

  
  


"Yes," he agreed, in a wondering voice. "Where you belong. Before you came, we were complete, but . . . you fit too. Somehow. I don't know. I suppose that's why I'm still just a padawan."

  
  


Danielle tilted her head slightly to the side. "Sometimes life presents us with mysteries not even the greatest of us can understand," she returned gently.

  
  


Obi-Wan walked to her side and put an arm around her, drawing her close to him, and together they pondered the stars. Neither knew that inside the apartment, a Jedi Master watched them both with a worried, wondering heart, while a giant, luminous-eyed fish floated serenely above his head.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Annie had never been so busy in her entire life.

  
  


In accepting Essra's offer to stay at the cantina, she hadn't realized just what she was getting into. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the work-well, she didn't exactly enjoy it, but she understood its necessity and didn't resent it-but the sheer magnitude of it overwhelmed her.

  
  


Annie had always been the shy one in every crowd, seeming to be meek and unassuming until one got to know her. Then, at last, her true wit and spirit was revealed, for which her friends had grown to love her. Thus, no one was more amazed than herself at the role she came to play in her new little society.

  
  


In the mornings, she rose early with Cassandra to attend to the daily business of running a cantina. She swept the floors, opened the windows, helped fix breakfast and other such amenities. After that, she sat down with the band, a motley collection of humans and aliens she was growing ridiculously fond of, and helped them to learn her music. Annie found she had absolutely no qualms about claiming such masterpieces as Yellow Submarine, Radar Love, and We Will Rock You came straight from her own mind. It wasn't as if the true creators were going to come to collect their dues, after all. Besides, it was obvious that these were going to be hits, because people loved them as much in Star Wars as they did on Earth.

  
  


In the days, Annie was a rebel. In various disguises, she relayed cryptic messages to select locations in Mos Eisley, and occasionally received messages from other nearby cities. One day, to her amazement, she even agreed to slip into a nearby stormtrooper garrison and plant a bug near the vidscreen. When she successfully escaped, she thought her heart would nearly burst from the tension, but she'd never felt so alive. Apparently she'd been born to be a rebel.

  
  


But in the evenings, she was a star.

  
  


To be honest, no one, Annie most of all, would ever have suspected she would have a career as a diva some day. If you'd told someone who knew her, they'd have laughed at first; if you persisted in your insane story, they'd then have given you the same look they would have if you'd told them you were a superhero in disguise, or that certain species of fish were telekinetic. Nonetheless, it was true; and, compounding the shock of being forced to sing and dance, Annie soon realized she actually liked it. Then, even 'like' was not a strong enough word: she loved it.

  
  


Every day, from eight to midnight, she donned her insane costume, cleared her throat, and sang like no tomorrow. She'd started out only mildly popular at first; the second night, the crowd had doubled to fifty, and she vowed to make them not regret coming. She started out the evening with a rousing rendition of Johnny B. Good which left them all too stunned to applaud. Before they recovered from that, she launched into Bohemian Rhapsody, employing some members of the band to help her with the choral parts. When this was over the small crowd leapt to its feet in order to cheer better, and she knew she had them. She finished off an evening of guaranteed hits with Jailhouse Rock, for which she received flowers and money thrown at her feet. When she tried to curtsey her way off the stage at midnight, they demanded her back again and again, and finally the bouncers had to forcefully escort her more rabid fans from the bar.

  
  


The next night, Annie, expecting perhaps a crowd of seventy, was shocked to discover that people started arriving as early as two in order to have seats. By eight o'clock, two hundred people had crammed themselves into the bar. She varied her routine a little by tossing in some show tunes and blues along with her classic rock; Flip, Flop and Fly was a definite crowd pleaser, and they demanded she re-sing Respect again immediately after performing it. Again, at the end of the evening she denied the pleas for just one more song, and promised to be back tomorrow.

  
  


And so it went, each night more and more people crowding into the bar until Essra started charging people, then started having to sell tickets in advance. People came from Mos Espa and Mos Islos to see her, which worried Annie until Cassandra assured her that her own mother wouldn't recognize her in her stage getup. Soon, they came from even farther.

  
  


Annie was a sensation. While her singing was nothing remarkable, the music which she produced seemingly from her own mind was absolutely phenomenal, and people couldn't seem to get enough of it. It helped that Annie had an amazing memory, able to simply recite song lyrics and melodies for hours on end. When she couldn't, she ad-libbed easily enough, and the band was never the wiser. For her efforts, she received bouquets of flowers, expensive jewelry, proposals of marriage, everything.

  
  


It was only a matter of time before Essra knew that Annie's star was rising too fast and too high to be contained in her own small establishment. Only a few weeks after her smashing debut, Essra and Cassandra moved her act to a huge auditorium nearby, and they sold tickets to nightly performances which generally sold out weeks in advance.

  
  


Annie felt she lived a dream life. In the day, she fought for good, sabotaging the Imperials at every turn and furthering the rebel cause in any way possible. At night, she faced mobs of cheering fans and awed them with music she had been raised on, the greats of her time. She became so absorbed in her new duties, in surviving from one day to the next, that she almost forgot she was in a different universe and had come to be there by the pendant that still hung, forgotten, around her neck.

  
  


But Fate, of course, had not forgotten Annie.

  
  
  
  


Some nine weeks after her arrival in the Star Wars galaxy, Annie was preparing for her performance that night back stage with Cassandra.

  
  


"Who'd have thought," the other singer sighed, "that you'd have such a genius for writing music? It's almost as though it's already written somewhere in your head and you're just speaking out aloud for the rest of our benefits."

  
  


Annie merely smiled and waited while Cassandra pulled the slip over her head.

  
  


"Cassie," she said softly as the other woman fussed with her hair, "I've been wondering about the message you received yesterday. You know-the one that put you and Essra into a tailspin, and that you still won't talk about?"

  
  


Cassandra's hands faltered momentarily, but she recovered. "I don't know what you're talking about."

  
  


Annie turned and caught the older woman's hands in her own. "Come on, Cassie. Please tell me."

  
  


At last she sighed. "You know that Jabba the Hutt was killed, of course."

  
  


Annie nodded. This little cinematic event had happened a few weeks ago, and she'd been put out that she'd missed the fun. They'd all been here, and she'd missed it! The thought was still maddening.

  
  


"Well . . . the Imperials have been investigating the incident, wondering what happened. They've found evidence to lead them to believe it was rebels."

  
  


"It was," Annie said softly, and was rewarded by a sharp look from Cassandra. Inwardly she cursed her big mouth, but she said nothing else aloud.

  
  


"Well. Whoever did do it, they suspect rebels-and locals, no less. They've been doing sweeps of all the major cities nearby, and we're next. They'll be cracking down on absolutely anything suspicious for the next few weeks . . . and that puts us in something of a tight spot."

  
  


"How so?"

  
  


Cassandra paused a moment, obviously debating not telling her, then finally bowed her head. "Favier was caught," she whispered.

  
  


Annie froze. "What?" she whispered back.

  
  


"Just yesterday. Found him dropping off a message at one of his usual spots, confiscated and read it, and took him into custody. Now we're all on tenterhooks, not knowing what he'll confess, who he'll unwillingly condemn."

  
  


Annie moaned softly. Favier was one of their minor couriers, a reckless Gotal who was so passionately idealistic he occasionally forgot about the harsh realities of life. "May the Force be with us! Cassie, aren't we going to do anything about it?"

  
  


"What can we do?" the other woman asked mournfully.

  
  


"Absolutely nothing," a voice drawled from in the shadows.

  
  


Both women whirled, horrified, only to see an entire squad of stormtroopers, led by a black-garbed lieutenant, standing just inside the doorway, staring at them.

  
  


Annie gave a little half-scream and stumbled back, but Cassandra lifted her chin angrily. "What right do you have to be in here? What do you want?"

  
  


"We are here, wench, to arrest you and that one," the lieutenant sneered, striding toward them angrily. "You are rebel spies and traitors. We have proof of your indiscretions and we mean to extract more proof from yourselves in our interrogation rooms."

  
  


"We are innocent," Cassandra tried again. "We have done nothing wrong!"

  
  


"Nothing but plot to bring down the glorious New Order and turn the galaxy over to murderous rabble," he snarled. "I will hear no more excuses. You ladies are coming with us."

  
  


Annie shrank back, but Cassandra stood strong. "Never!"

  
  


"You leave me no choice but to use force," he said, sounding almost happy. Turning to his troops, he began, "Men-"

  
  


He never finished. Halfway through the motion Cassandra drew a blaster from somewhere on her person, leveled it at its chest, and fired, simultaneously diving behind a nearby table.

  
  


All hell broke loose in a single instant. The shot caught the lieutenant on the shoulder, taking him down, and the stormtroopers responded by drawing their own weapons and lunging for cover. Annie dove to join Cassandra, terrified witless, and stared at her friend wide-eyed as she gave the stormtroopers shot for shot.

  
  


"Annie," Cassandra shouted above the din, "I want you to get out of here. Wait for my signal and run for that door. Don't stop running, do you hear me? Don't stop!"

  
  


"But, Cassie," Annie gasped, "I can't leave you-"

  
  


"You can and you will. I can take care of myself. Damn you, girl, do as I say! Go!"

  
  


For a moment Annie stared at her, horrified, but when Cassandra shouted, "GO!" again, she dove across the room and sprinted out the door. A single shot caught her in passing, scoring painfully across her back, but it was a mere graze, painful but not serious. She made it to the door and tumbled into the night.

  
  


True to her instructions, she didn't stop, but instead picked up speed and kept running, fleet as a thought through the night-darkened streets, oblivious to the curious stares of those around her. She could still hear the firefight behind her, so she just kept on running, sobbing from fear and loss, wondering how her dream could have turned so quickly into a nightmare.

  
  


Annie didn't stop running for a long time, until she had left the last lights of the city far behind her. Only then did she not hear the gunshots and Cassie's cries in her mind; only then did she think it safe to stop.

  
  


Completely exhausted, she tumbled to the ground, moaning in a blend of pain and heartache. Cassie, dear, sweet Cassie had sacrificed herself for Annie, and what had she done? Turned and ran without looking back once. They were probably all dead by now, Cassie and Essra and Jiano and all the others . . . and she was alone and lost in the desert in the middle of the night, with the temperature rapidly plunging toward zero.

  
  


Unable to cope with the pain of her knowledge, she curled into a ball and wept.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It stands to reason that, when one is being given a series of tests, each successive test will be considerably more challenging than those previous to it. While in all logic this is the only conclusion that truly makes sense, when one is in a truly tight spot, one tends to throw logic to the wind and naively hope for the best.

  
  


Such was the mindset of Krista concerning the ball.

  
  


To her extreme joy, since the negotiations were nearing an end, Amidala no longer required them to wear that hideous pink. Instead, their dresses were of white silk with clouds of gossamer veils and beaded with pure crystals like ice (and, to Krista's delight, did not require corsets, those torturous devices). The ball that evening was to be en masque, so while the handmaidens' dresses were the same, each got to select varying accessories, including a mask. Krista was willing to put up with the snowy dresses, the ritual clouds of makeup, and even the arranging and curling of her hair in order to choose from among the fantastical selection.

  
  


Amidala, as the Queen, was not allowed to be exorbitant, and besides the over-elaborate-ness of her gown would give her away anyway, so she selected a simple white domino mask to conceal her features. Sabe chose a snowy owl mask constructed of real feathers that gave her sweet features a surprisingly hawk-like appearance. Sache, grinning insanely, wore the head of a unicorn, and the others chose similar things.

  
  


Unable to resist, Krista chose a mask that, although purely white and silver, made her think irrepressibly of Mardi Gras. Its ridiculous, almost grotesquely sculpted front was belied by the waterfalls of crystal beads and silver streamers, and ivory feathers sprouted from it at all angles. Krista loved it.

  
  


So, robed, masked, and ready for anything, Krista again joined the line of handmaidens and swept to the dining hall.

  
  


As soon as they swept inside, she knew this was going to be a memorable night. Every other member of the court and the Gerogonian delegation was masked and costumed as well, ranging from simple dominos like Amidala's to elaborate, entire-body costumes that rendered its wearer perfectly anonymous. When everyone rose to acknowledge the Queen's entrance, there was scattered applause, and they each went to their separate seats.

  
  


Dinner, for once, occurred with no mishaps, as Krista was strategically seated far from the prince and had been coached on how to successfully devour the components of this meal. She listened to several speeches, applauded politely at the proper moments, made genial chitchat with her neighbors, and avoided the Gerogonian prince's over-obvious attempts to catch her eye. Often she ran through the gestures Sache had taught her earlier in the day in her mind, which was a surprisingly comforting ritual.

  
  


When dinner was over, the true ordeal began: dancing.

  
  


At first, Krista was smart enough to keep well out of the way. She smiled, nodded, and bolted for the nearest dark corner, praying she blended in.

  
  


It was Rabe who found her first. Quite recovered from her lizardy experience, she was in her element, dancing and flirting and charming everyone as a proper handmaiden ought. Upon spotting Krista in her secluded haven, she made a beeline for her and dragged her back into the public circuit ("What are you doing hiding in the shadows? You mustn't shame the Queen by being so childish! Come out and take your proper position!").

  
  


Thusly exposed, it was only a matter of time before the unthinkable occurred: she was asked to dance.

  
  


Luckily, her first partner was the friendly herald from the dinner of a few days ago, who had seemed to know her. He made much of bending over and kissing her hand and calling her "My Lady", but as soon as they were on the dance floor he pulled her quite close-and began to whisper wicked anecdotes and jokes into her ear until she was shaking with the effort not to burst into laughter. When he finally released her three dances later, she was in a considerably better mood, and she waved him goodbye quite sadly.

  
  


No sooner had she left than she saw the prince heading toward her, so she headed in the opposite direction, bent on escape. She was intercepted, however, by another member of the Gerogonian delegation, a young man perhaps a little younger than she was and perhaps two feet taller. Sensing a diversionary tactic, she danced with him as well, and while he was an exceptionally skilled dancer, he was nowhere near as entertaining as her first had been, so she only stayed with him for a single song. With a gracious smile, she fled to the buffet table, and made much of conversing with Captain Panaka, whom she found standing nearby. When he left, she again saw the prince heading her way, so in desperation she asked the nearest young man to dance and was accepted.

  
  


This partner she stayed with for two dances, thanking him over-flatteringly at the end of the second and leaving him with a huge grin on his face. She turned away-and ran smack into the prince.

  
  


"At last, we meet again, my sweet lady," the prince said gallantly, dropping to one knee and catching her hand to kiss it gently.

  
  


Krista managed not to pull her hand free. "Yeah," she replied, seeking another diversionary method. "We do, don't we? But-but I think-that-Sache wants me. That's right," she said, desperately trying to catch the other woman's eye. "She's giving me this significant look. I really think I should-"

  
  


He stood and looked down at her, blue eyes heavy-lidded. "You don't think you could spare me just one dance, before you go rushing off?"

  
  


Krista bit back her instinctive 'no' and considered. Maybe if she danced with him just the one time, he'd leave her alone. "All right," she said reluctantly. "One dance."

  
  


With a smile that could have lit an auditorium he took her hand and led her to the floor just as the musicians, almost on cue, struck up a new song.

  
  


Whatever his other failings, the prince was an exquisite dancer, and he didn't try anything that might have given her cause to slap him. After a while, Krista actually found herself able to stop concentrating so rigidly on the steps and actually enjoying herself.

  
  


However, she soon realized that the 'one dance' she'd intended to give him was going to be much longer than she'd anticipated. As soon as the first song ended he begged her for another, and then another, until she realized glumly she'd found herself saddled with a partner for the entire night.

  
  


Finally, growing desperate, she remembered something she'd seen in The Scarlet Pimpernel. Stopping slowly, she put a hand to her forehead and blinked rapidly. "Oh, my," she exclaimed breathlessly. "I . . . I think I should sit down for a minute."

  
  


The prince helped her off the dance floor, concern inherent in his every gesture. "Are you all right? Are you dizzy?"

  
  


"Yes," she said sweetly, trying to steer him toward a row of chairs. "If I could just sit-"

  
  


"You need fresh air," he told her firmly, and, much to her ire, rather forcefully directed her toward the balcony that opened into the balmy night air.

  
  


Outside, he slid the doors shut behind them and with great care led her to a chair, into which she sank with feigned relief. As he fanned her and remained knelt by her side, she wondered how she might escape him now, cut off from everyone.

  
  


After some moments, he said tentatively, "How do you feel?"

  
  


She seized the opportunity. "Much better, thanks. In fact, I think-" she started to rise, but was cut off.

  
  


Expression earnest, he grabbed her hands. "Since you feel better and we have some privacy-could we talk?"

  
  


Krista stifled a groan. The last thing she wanted was to have a little moonlit chat with him, but she couldn't think of a way to worm out of it that wouldn't be either blatantly obvious or totally inappropriate for a prim little handmaiden. "If you wish," she said with ill grace.

  
  


Still clasping her hands, he led her to the rail. "Lady Kristae-may I call you that?"

  
  


She forced a smile. "You may, my lord prince." (Eirtae had drilled a few manners into her in the past days, including correct courtly titles, without even having to torture her at all.)

  
  


"My lady Kristae, surely you are not aware that I have recently begun to harbor certain- feelings-affections-toward yourself."

  
  


God help her. "But, my lord prince," she stammered, drawing back, "you have only known me for, for a matter of days. Surely-"

  
  


He fell to his knees, still refusing to relinquish her hands despite her determined efforts to free them. "Never has a bolt of love struck me thusly before, with such swiftness and terrible poignancy! I can hide it no longer-I am enamored of you, my dear, sweet Lady Kristae!"

  
  


It was like some kind of horrible mockery of a Victorian romance. "But-my lord-"

  
  


"Do not pretend that you have not known it! Do not pretend that you have not seen it shining from my eyes, radiating from my every gesture! You have known-and, I will swear, you felt it too-"

  
  


"What?" she gasped, outraged; but, before she had a chance to defend herself, he plunged ahead.

  
  


"Never, in my entire life, have I felt this way before! You fill me with such radiance-it is though a candle burns within me, and a joy I have never known pervades me merely when I am in your presence!"

  
  


"You burn, you pine, you perish, all that," Krista interrupted impatiently. "But still-"

  
  


It was as though he hadn't heard her. "Without you, I would wallow in darkness, and all would be grey before my eyes. You are my soul, my ideal, my samite-clad goddess on her shimmering pedestal. If you will not have me, I will have none. Tell me, lady, and tell me true: do you like of me?"

  
  


Krista sighed deeply, wondering if there was a way to say it tactfully. Then, deciding there wasn't, she said quite bluntly, "No, my lord prince."

  
  


He silenced as suddenly as if he'd been shot.

  
  


Krista sighed again, suddenly very weary. "That's what I've been trying to tell you all along. I-I don't even know you."

  
  


He brightened suddenly. "But given a chance-if I courted you, wooed you as a lady deserves-"

  
  


Krista grimaced. "Probably . . . not even then," she said as kindly as she could.

  
  


He bowed his head slowly and released her hands. "You're certain?"

  
  


She felt a little sorry for him, now. "I'm certain. And I'm sorry, really I am, but . . ."

  
  


"Your heart belongs to another?"

  
  


Krista blinked. "Not really, no. I . . . I'm just so busy with handmaiden duties and political escapades, I don't have time for a real relationship. I couldn't give you or anyone the kind of attention you deserve. I'm just not free to get involved with anyone right now." Except Qui-Gon, she added silently. If I ever get to find him.

  
  


The prince stood silently and drew away. For some time he looked over the balcony, motionless, until Krista wondered if she should just leave. Before she could, however, he turned and sighed softly.

  
  


"Very well, then. If that is the way it must be, that is the way it must be. My heart grieves, but . . . what is a gentleman to do? If I cannot persuade you, I simply must give you up."

  
  


Krista said nothing, hoping this soap opera-like scene would be over soon.

  
  


"I hope we can at least still be friends."

  
  


"Yes, of course," she said, relieved.

  
  


He turned and forced a smile. "That will have to suffice, I suppose." He simply looked at her for a moment, then turned to a refreshment tray resting innocuously nearby and plucked a glass of some liquid refreshment or other from it and offered it to her. "Ether?"

  
  


Krista was wary of drinking something by this name, but it seemed impolite to refuse. She accepted the goblet but did not drink from it, instead merely toying with it to avoid making eye contact.

  
  


Finally, after a very long and awkward moment, the prince raised his head. "I . . . I suppose we should go in now."

  
  


Krista nodded quickly. "Yes. We will be missed."

  
  


He smiled faintly and bowed, gesturing the way. "After you, my lady."

  
  


Krista smiled, downed the goblet in a single brave gulp, hoping it was some form of incredibly strong alcohol, and swept past him with a nod. At the door, however, she had no sooner touched the handle than she stopped, dizzily.

  
  


The world was beginning to spin alarmingly around her. As she drew back fearfully, she realized that everything was turning fuzzy gray and her head was throbbing.

  
  


"Are you all right?" she heard the prince ask from behind her.

  
  


"No," she said, really starting to be afraid. "I feel really dizzy. In fact, I think I should-"

  
  


Before she could make it to the chair, she collapsed-but the prince gallantly caught her. She looked up at him, surprised and grateful-and stopped short at the expression on his face.

  
  


"You," she breathed, fighting for consciousness. "You-you drugged my drink, didn't you?"

  
  


"I imagined that, judging by your previous behavior, you'd be apt to refuse me," he returned, his voice a husky whisper. "And I don't handle rejection very well, I feel I must add."

  
  


"You'll never get away with this," she slurred, watching the world spin before her eyes. "The Queen-"

  
  


"By the time the Queen notices our absence, we'll be long gone," he assured her with an evil grin.

  
  


Krista opened her mouth to scream, but his hand came down over her lips, effectively stopping the cry. In retaliation, she bit him, and was rewarded by a curse and the removal of the offending hand. Triumphant, she tried again to scream . . . and fell into oblivion.


	7. Why Me?

SEVEN

  
  
  
  


"Danielle?"

  
  


About to leave the creche, Danielle paused and turned back to regard the owner of the tiny voice that had just called her name. Seeing him toddle up to her, she fell to a crouch to be able to look into his eyes.

  
  


"You come back and pway more tomorrow," he said imperiously, still slightly unsteady on his chubby legs.

  
  


Danielle grinned. "I promise I will," she assured the little boy solemnly, and he nodded, satisfied.

  
  


The nursery attendant, a sweet young alien by the name of Mierette, called to her, "See you tomorrow, Danielle! May the Force be with you!"

  
  


"And you," Danielle returned solemnly, bowing as she'd been taught. Then, with another smile, she exited the library.

  
  


It had been only a scant number of weeks since she'd been here, but already it felt like a lifetime. Temple life suited Danielle so absolutely it was growing hard to imagine living anywhere else. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were like a father and brother to her, and equally dear. Her days were spent in studies, of everything from the Force itself to the history of the galaxy. Whenever the whim seized him, Qui-Gon made her meditate or taught her some new focus, to help her better develop her fledgling Force skills. Since she was years behind in training and not so skilled as the others, she was still a far cry from telekinesis or telepathy, but she already began to feel strange stirrings of premonition before anything of import occurred, or to look up seconds before Obi or Qui came in the room. It was unnerving, but strangely comforting as well, to know that she possessed such powers.

  
  


There were more aspects to Temple life than she had ever imagined. When, upon attempting to teach her fencing, the vigor of the workout had brought on an unexpectedly intense asthma attack, Obi-Wan had rushed her to the medical ward. When Danielle next woke, not only was she fully recovered . . . but her asthma was gone. The Jedi healers at the temple had cured her completely. She still marveled at the ease of drawing breath and how she was now able to work for hours without any trouble breathing beyond what all humans experienced. It was like a miracle. They'd offered to cure of her need for glasses as well, but Danielle had stubbornly refused, not even certain why she did so but still unbending in her resolve.

  
  


Now, she was on her way to another fencing session with Obi-Wan, who was growing practically fanatical about her tutelage. When he realized she had absolutely no self-defense training, he was horrified, and was doing everything in his power to teach her how to take down an attacker of any size. Danielle, always worried about what might befall her while they were away on one of their innumerable missions, was all too happy to agree.

  
  


She had no sooner stepped into the hall, however, than an incredible din assaulted her ears. Thunderstruck, she stopped in place-and realized that the commotion was coming from just a scant way down the hall.

  
  


Unless she was mistaken, that was a group of no less than four Jedi all holding a leash to one very large, very upset Nexxu. It was doing everything in its power to escape, or at least wreak as much havoc as was earthly possible, and the Jedi were having the battle of their lives attempting to restrain it.

  
  


"What's going on?" she asked a young acolyte who was standing nearby.

  
  


The young alien shrugged. "Apparently that thing got loose from a private menagerie and was causing complete mayhem in the city. A team of Jedi was dispatched to bring it back here, and now the Council has declared it unsafe. I believe it's going to be mercifully killed."

  
  


"Killed!" Danielle exclaimed, horrified. Her voice, surprisingly loud, echoed throughout the vaulted hallway. Down the hall, above the din, it seemed the Nexxu somehow heard her, for it stopped its frantic battle against its holders and raised its head to meet her gaze with astonishing clarity.

  
  


For a moment Danielle stood frozen, caught between horror and shock-then with a deafening roar the Nexxu leapt free of its holders in a single bound and came sprinting straight at her.

  
  


The Jedi around her, possessed of far better reflexes than she, scattered instinctively. Danielle, however, was too paralyzed to move. All she could see was the ferocious figure of the Nexxu bearing down on her-and then it leapt on her, jaws agape and claws extended.

  
  


Danielle didn't even hear the cry of horror from the end of the hall as Qui-Gon, lightsaber ignited, rushed onto the scene just in time to see the huge beast slam into Danielle. With another cry of commingled rage and loss, he dove forward-only to stop in total shock when he realized that, far from screaming in pain and terror, Danielle was . . . laughing?

  
  


Sprinting toward her, he drew near enough to see that, instead of mauling her or ripping her to shreds, the vicious creature was pinning her to floor in order to better rub its head against her and purr loudly enough to shake the hall, giant tail lashing dangerously. Danielle, far from struggling, was scratching under its chin vigorously and making soothing cooing noises to it.

  
  


It was a whole minute later before Qui-Gon had sense enough to disengage his blade and return it to his side. "Danielle," he called somewhat unsteadily. When he received no reply, he tried again. "Danielle!"

  
  


With a muffled grunt she managed to worm her way out from under the Nexxu and stand. As she did, she idly continued to pet the beast, which in response butted her so hard she nearly fell over again. Regaining her balance, she asked in a very small voice, "Yes, Qui-Gon?"

  
  


"What . . . why . . . what are you doing with that . . . thing?"

  
  


"It's not a thing," Danielle said indignantly. "He's a gorgeous Nexxu kitten. Aren't you, sweetie?" she cooed, turning again to scratch the kitten that was nearly as tall as she.

  
  


"Danielle, that's a ferocious wild animal!" he exclaimed. "It's not some domesticated pet for you to play with! It's dangerous!"

  
  


Danielle glared at him. "He certainly doesn't seem dangerous to me. He's not ferocious, just scared and lonely. His misses his mother and doesn't know we're only trying to help him. Well-" she glared at the Jedi who had been holding the leashes who were now approaching cautiously, "-some of us are trying to help him."

  
  


Following Danielle's line of sight, the Nexxu spotted the approaching Jedi and gave a low growl deep in its throat. It hunkered down, ready to pounce, but Danielle made a little meowing noise and it turned again to face her, prey forgotten.

  
  


"You see?" she said happily. "He's fine with me!"

  
  


At that precise moment Obi-Wan came skidding around the corner, his lightsaber also ignited. "Danielle! I felt your fear and a terrible premonition, so I came run--what in the Force?" Seeing Danielle snuggling with the giant cat, he stopped dead, totally stunned.

  
  


"This lunatic of a girl seems to think she's completely safe from this-this-terrible monster!" Qui-Gon exclaimed, rapidly reaching his wit's end. "She won't listen to reason!"

  
  


Obi-Wan looked at Danielle, at Qui-Gon, then back at Danielle again. Then, barely managing to disengage his lightsaber, he doubled over with hysterical laughter.

  
  


Glaring at him, Danielle said to Qui-Gon, "He's harmless, really he is. I promise he won't hurt a soul."

  
  


"Going on here, what is?" a small voice demanded

  
  


Everyone turned to face Master Yoda. One of the Jedi began to explain. "We were just taking this creature to be put to sleep, per orders, when it broke free of its leashes and dove after this girl. We thought it was going to attack her, but . . ." She gestured helplessly.

  
  


Danielle crossed her arms defiantly as the Nexxu looked at Yoda as though considering whether he was just small enough to eat. "They were going to execute him, and he wouldn't hurt a soul! It's obvious he's harmless!"

  
  


Yoda gave that same serene smile as he looked at the Nexxu. "Seem to be fine when in your presence, he does."

  
  


Danielle leapt forward. "Oh, please, Master Yoda, please don't let them execute him! He's a sweet Nexxu, really he is! I-I'll take him myself, if I have to!"

  
  


Qui-Gon exploded, "What?!" and Obi-Wan stopped laughing abruptly. "What did she say?"

  
  


"I believe she just offered that this thing could share our apartments," Qui-Gon snarled. "Not nearly so funny now, is it, padawan?"

  
  


"Hold on just a second," Obi-Wan cried to Danielle. "We live there, too! The Gumba fish is bad enough! I won't share living quarters with another thing with a penchant for eating people!"

  
  


Danielle ignored them both and fixed Yoda with her most pleading gaze. "Please, Master Yoda," she repeated desperately.

  
  


The little Jedi Master's ears twitched with amusement. "A life saved, a blessing from the Force is," he said serenely. "As long as the beast shows good behavior and harms no one, stay with you, it can."

  
  


"Master Yoda!" Qui-Gon cried, horrified, as Obi-Wan groaned, "Please tell me you're joking!" and Danielle cried, "Oh, thank you, thank you!" Ignoring the general pandemonium Yoda's words had caused, she turned to her new Nexxu and rubbed its ears until its eyes closed in bliss. "You're mine now, sweetheart," she soothed. "You're safe now with me. I'll take you back to our apartment and you'll have a place to sleep and plenty to eat and I'll play with you every day . . . Such a sweetie . . . I'll call you Sweetums," she said with sudden decisiveness. "Yes. Sweetums."

  
  


Obi-Wan looked torn between laughter and horror. "'Sweetums'? You're calling a giant man-eating monster Sweetums?"

  
  


Danielle shot him an evil look. "Do you have a better suggestion?"

  
  


"How about we don't let it live in our apartment?"

  
  


Danielle turned to glare at him. Sweetums, sensing her displeasure, also began to growl. "Are you saying you'd rather let an innocent creature be slain than share refuge with it?" she asked ominously.

  
  


Obi-Wan looked at the now bristling Nexxu uneasily. "Uh . . . no. Of course not. Silly of me." He forced a smile until Danielle turned away, satisfied. "And you, Qui-Gon?"

  
  


He threw his hands up. "Between our fly traps, the Gumba fish, the Nexxu, and you, I'm just starting to commend my soul to the Force right now. You'd better make sure no one gets eaten, girl."

  
  


"Would Yoda have let me keep him if he was going to eat anyone?" she asked sensibly. Sweetums whuffled agreement, its long tail curling around her lovingly. "Come on, my widdle kiddy," she purred to him, "let's go find us some dinner, hmm?"

  
  


The Nexxu looked pointedly at a very alarmed Qui-Gon.

  
  


"No, no, these are my friends-besides, I don't think he'd taste very good. I'll tell you later what you can and can't eat, okay?" Still chatting amiably, she and Sweetums strolled off down the hall, heading for the apartment.

  
  


The hallway cleared slowly in their wake. Finally, only Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were left.

  
  


"Exactly what have we gotten ourselves into?" Obi-Wan asked into the silence.

  
  


Qui-Gon clapped his very distraught padawan on the should. "Just keep asking yourself that question, my boy. It's only going to keep getting more pertinent from here on out, I imagine."

  
  


Obi-Wan groaned. "Come on, let's go and try to get some dinner before those two monsters eat it all."

  
  


In complete accord, they warily followed Danielle and the Nexxu back to their quarters.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Annie awoke to a sensation of incredible heat, pain, and a gritty feeling in her eyes that made it hurt to open them.

  
  


With some difficulty, she sat up, trying to take stock of her surroundings. It was early morning, the sun having just risen, and she was here in the middle of the desert, all alone, with no sign of civilization in sight. At first, she couldn't fathom what had happened, and merely remained motionless for a moment. Then memory returned in a relentless wave of agony, and she crumpled over, fighting to keep a cry from escaping her lips. She'd already lost too much moisture last night, crying herself to sleep like that. She couldn't afford to lose any more today.

  
  


Wearily, she forced herself to stagger to her feet. She ached all over, and her spirits felt no better. In the space of a single evening, her entire world had collapsed, and now she had no idea what she could possibly do . . . about anything.

  
  


There a strange peace to everything, despite the heat. Everything but the wind was perfectly still and totally silent, motionless under the baking sun. The sand dunes roiled on endlessly in all directions, free of any obstructions such as landmarks, and the night winds had taken even her footprints. In profound horror, Annie realized she'd lost all sense of direction. She had no idea which way she'd come from.

  
  


She was well and truly lost.

  
  


Fighting despair, she shaded her eyes and looked around. In one of these directions lay civilization; she knew that much. So, if she headed in one of them, she had about a fifty percent chance of eventually spotting some kind of discerning landmark. It seemed a better plan than just staying there and waiting to die, at least.

  
  


Examining herself, she ripped off all of her costume's accouterments that weren't totally necessary and fashioned a turban out of them, tucking her hair up on top of her head. Knowing she should keep as much of her skin covered as possible, she made arm wrappings out of the lightest material she had, and discarded much of the rest. She couldn't think of any possible use for it anyway.

  
  


Then, with a lift of her chin and a prayer, she headed off toward the rising sun.

  
  


Time grew meaningless. There was nothing but the pounding sun, the waves of heat shimmering visibly in the air in front of her, the glare rising off the sand. Her throat drew so dry she doubted she'd be able to speak, and she felt patches of her skin that weren't covered starting to burn in the relentless glare. Her limbs grew tired and her eyes stung from the airborne sand the wind carried, but still she toiled endlessly onward, knowing that if she stopped she'd never rise again.

  
  


It seemed she'd been walking hours before she began to see some kind of rock formation rising out of the sands. At first little more than jutting boulders or a patch of rocky ground, they soon developed into towering spires and formidable gorges.

  
  


Swallowing a distinct sense of unease, she trudged wearily onward, trying to ignore her desperate thirst and throbbing headache. It wasn't until she began to hear furtive noises that she truly began to be afraid, and move her feet slightly faster.

  
  


It was to no avail. From the rocks in front of her suddenly bloomed an entire tribe of Tusken Raiders, masked and robed and armed with gaffi sticks.

  
  


Annie, having seen Attack of the Clones, knew the Sand People often kidnaped wandering people and drank the moisture from their bodies. Not wishing to endure such a fate, she turned and fled in the opposite direction-and, with ringing whoops, the Sand People pursued.

  
  


Her previous exhaustion and physical misery were wholly forgotten as she summoned every ounce of speed she possessed to try and escape her attackers. Even still, her body had reached the end of its endurance, and with a terrible gasping sob she felt herself stumble and begin to slow as the Sand People inexorably closed in on her. In only another moment she tumbled and fell sprawling onto the sands, flipping herself over to hiss at the approaching Tuskens.

  
  


Annie truly believed she was doomed as, with hooting noises of derision, they drew their gaffi sticks and headed steadily toward her. Her mind whirled frantically, praying for some kind of escape--when a miracle occurred.

  
  


The sand in front of her suddenly began stirring, as though blown by a nonexistent wind. As she watched, dumbfounded, it slowly rose up in a towering column of dust and grit, like a miniature cyclone-then with a great shrieking noise it slammed forward into the Tuskens.

  
  


Total mayhem followed. Shrieking, the Tuskens tried to defend themselves with their gaffi sticks, but the weapons were totally ineffective against the formless sand devils that assaulted them and drove them back. As Annie stared stupidly, she saw that the cyclone split into several individual sections, unmistakably driving the Sand People away from her. Then, she realized that each individual storm cloud was not only pushing the Tuskens back, but that it did so in the form of snarling mouths, clawed paws lashing outward, and a dozen fierce weapons, like sculpture made in the air.

  
  


After only a few minutes, the Tuskens shrieked their defeat and fled, unwilling to face such an inhuman power. Annie herself was too terrified to react. She could only continue to stare, gasping in fear and exhaustion, as the sand pursued the fleeing Tuskens out of sight, then slowly returned and drew to a stop in front of her. As she cringed away, it consolidated before her very eyes. Annie only had time to see the sand fall away, revealing only the flickering and unreal shape of a human man, before her eyes rolled up in her head and she passed out.

  
  
  
  


She next woke to the blessedly sweet sensation of water trickling over her lips. At first she drank thirstily, hardly even aware of what she was doing-then her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, spilling the cup.

  
  


To her astonishment, however, there was no one there to hold it.

  
  


She appeared to be in some kind of vaguely familiar dwelling, placed gently on a small cot with a cold compress on her forehead. She had no memory of coming here, nothing beyond the sands forming a shape strangely like a human being-and though everything around her indicated signs of care, she was totally alone.

  
  


Beginning to be truly afraid, she looked wildly around her. "Who are you? What's going on? What do you want from me?"

  
  


The voice that replied seemed to come from the very air around her. "Please, my dear, there's no need to be frightened. I'm only trying to help you."

  
  


Annie froze, then looked around her with wide eyes. "Where-where are you?"

  
  


A soft laugh, an extremely cultured and gentle noise, followed her question. "Everywhere . . . and nowhere. I am no longer in any place that is within your realm of understanding. But for the moment . . . I suppose I may say that I am here, with you."

  
  


Annie blinked. "Where?"

  
  


The air in front of her shimmered-and the ghostly, transparent image of a man formed before her, benevolent and ethereal.

  
  


Annie drew in a sharp gasp. "You're-you're Obi-Wan Kenobi!"

  
  


The specter cocked its head and looked at her curiously. "Indeed. I'm surprised you know me, young one. Few do, these days."

  
  


Realizing she'd given herself away, Annie ducked her head, face burning. At the rate she was going, it was amazing she'd lived this long.

  
  


"There's nothing to fear from me, child. I hope you can tell that I mean you no harm, and even if I did, how could I hurt you? I am currently rather . . . intangible."

  
  


Annie raised her gaze again, memory returning. "You. It was you that saved me from the Sand People."

  
  


That silver head inclined regally.

  
  


"But . . . how? Aren't you . . . dead?"

  
  


"The Force is a powerful thing, young one; though I have returned to it physically, I may still command some of it to serve such purposes. Besides," he smiled, "I saved you before, as well, remember?"

  
  


Annie simply stared for a minute, then gasped. "In the alley with the stormtroopers-that horrible noise-" She felt rather like one of those feckless heroines who, after being captured by the villain at the end of the movie, suddenly have an almost psychic knowledge of every nuance of the enemy's plan and make sure the villain knows they know, so they must be killed. Hopefully, that wasn't the case here.

  
  


The specter seated himself on a nearby table. "A krayt dragon call. Effective in almost all circumstances for frightening unwanted visitors off. One can learn some useful things, in isolation on Tatooine."

  
  


A sudden thought caught at Annie. "Please, sir. Has . . . has the Death Star been destroyed?"

  
  


He looked at her in amusement. "Several years ago, young one. You should keep up with current events better."

  
  


Annie grimaced. "No, I meant-the second Death Star."

  
  


He stared at her. "How do you know of that? So few did."

  
  


"And . . . is the Emperor dead, and Vader redeemed, or has something gone terribly wrong?"

  
  


Kenobi stood up abruptly. "How do you know all of this?"

  
  


Annie sat quietly for a moment, wondering how to answer. After a long period of thought, an answer occurred to her. She had to trust someone-why not Obi-Wan Kenobi, whom she knew to be true and courageous? "If you answer my questions, I'll tell you-everything."

  
  


He too was silent for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Yes, the second Death Star was destroyed when the Executor plunged into its side. The Emperor and Vader both perished with it."

  
  


Annie looked at him keenly. "You are certain both were not already deceased when the Death Star was destroyed? And that one of them was no longer even on it, but whose ashes now reside in a funeral pyre on Endor?"

  
  


Kenobi was looking at her like she'd grown another head. "How can you know all this?"

  
  


"Tell me. Was that what happened?"

  
  


He shook his head, amazed. "Yes. Young Luke journeyed to the Death Star in hopes of retrieving his father from the Dark Side and was instead brought before the Emperor, that thing which I had feared the most and tried the hardest to prevent for so many long years." He shook his head. "I was so afraid we all were lost, for if Luke had turned to the Dark Side, he would have been far more terrible than Vader and the Emperor ever were. But, impossibly, he did not. He retained his purity and stayed a Jedi, and instead it was Vader who was redeemed, sacrificing himself to kill the Emperor and, in so doing, saving the life of his son." His pride in Luke shone through his words. "And now the last of the Jedi shall become the first of the new order, and they shall rise from the ashes to be stronger and more pure than ever they were in my lifetime."

  
  


Annie smiled faintly, suddenly beyond caring. "The old Jedi were corrupt, yes. But there were a few-you among them-who compensated for the failings."

  
  


He whipped his head around to look at her. "But-you would not even have been born before the Jedi fell," he said in surprise. "How could you possibly-?"

  
  


Annie shrugged simply. "You will find I know many things I should not." She grinned. "I should think that you, being dead, have a little extra wisdom yourself."

  
  


He smiled wryly. "I take your point. Indeed I do. But you, my dear, are alive-and you were going to tell me how you have such knowledge."

  
  


She closed her eyes. "I . . . I'm not from here. Not even from this galaxy."

  
  


"From which one, then?"

  
  


She opened her eyes. "Where I come from, we only know of one galaxy with life in it-in fact, we know of only one planet with life on it. I come from there."

  
  


He looked at her, shocked. "Fascinating. But still, I don't see how--"

  
  


She interrupted him shamelessly. "Everything here--this entire galaxy--is a story, a fairy tale of a sort, where I come from."

  
  


He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. "You have a lot to tell me, don't you?" he asked softly.

  
  


Annie smiled weakly, but with no small amount of relief and release. It would be so good to tell someone, at last. "Yes."

  
  
  
  
  
  


Krista awoke to one of the most pounding headaches she could ever remember having.

  
  


Blearily, she half-sat up, grimacing as the world spun around her in an extremely disorienting manner. Where was she? Certainly not in her bedroom; everything here, despite the blur, was unfamiliar. Then, abruptly, she remembered. She was in Star Wars; she had been, in fact, for the past few weeks. But this wasn't her room in the Theed Palace, either. So where . . . ?

  
  


When she remembered, the last vestiges of dizziness and disorientation vanished and she sat bolt upright with a hiss of displeasure. The Prince! He'd drugged her drink and obviously dragged her here-- . . . but where was 'here'? What did he plan to do with her? How long had she been unconscious?

  
  


Scrambling unsteadily to her feet, she waited a moment to catch her breath, then headed as stealthily as possible toward the door. Seeing the pad that would open it, she reached for it with a faint hope it wouldn't be locked . . . but it slid open before she could even touch it, revealing a smugly grinning Gerogonian Prince.

  
  


Krista sprang back with a cry, shocked out of her wits, and sat back down on her cot. When she recovered her composure, she was on her feet again in an instant, snarling. "You! How dare you show your face to me, you--you lowdown--cad--" The temptation to use her by no means small store of profanity was nearly overwhelming, but, surprisingly, Eirtae and Yare's teachings held. She was still, even if only in the smallest and most ridiculous manner, a representative of the Queen and a lady of quality. Even under duress, she wouldn't give the Prince the pleasure of descending to his level.

  
  


"Hello, Lady Kristae," he purred, closing the door behind him and gliding toward her. "It's marvelous to see you awake again."

  
  


"You must have a lot of courage," she sneered, standing her ground and meeting his eyes squarely and fearlessly. "You do know what my lady will do to you when she catches you . . . don't you? Diplomatic immunity or no, I've no doubt she will take great pleasure in exacting her revenge on those parts of you that cause the most pain, especially those that ensure you have a gender . . ."

  
  


His face, for the first time she'd ever seen, twisted, becoming shockingly ugly. "I don't see as how you should be the one making threats, Handmaiden," he sneered, looming over her in his most intimidating manner. "You are completely under my power here."

  
  


Krista looked him over instinctively--and, consequently, noticed something extremely interesting. He wasn't armed. They were alone. He must not consider her much of a threat at all.

  
  


With that, inspiration struck; and so, when he stepped menacingly closer to her, she obligingly cringed and backed away, much to his apparent satisfaction.

  
  


"Wh-where are we?" she gasped, her eyes darting about as if in mortal terror.

  
  


He became condescending again in the blink of an eye. "On my private starcruiser, heading for my private apartments. We've almost arrived, in fact." His smile was an intriguing blend of endearing--and lascivious. "There, I can begin to woo you properly without any . . . distractions."

  
  


I'll be damned if you will, she thought fiercely, but she merely widened her eyes and said only, "Your--your apartment?"

  
  


He wasn't stupid enough to tell her where they were, alas. "That's right. And believe me, no one will ever find us there." His smile was one of the most terrible things she'd ever seen. "You're mine now, Lady Kristae."

  
  


Before Krista could lose her temper and blow her whole poor-little-me act, the door slammed open behind him. "My lord! There's a ship in pursuit--it appears to be a Nubian Starfighter!"

  
  


Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, Krista drew a deep breath, summoned all her courage, and lanced out with one of her feet, knocking the prince's feet out from under him. As he wobbled, shocked, she lanced out again, this time catching him in the groin. As he doubled over with a moan, the faithful retainer who'd come in through the door fumbled for his weapon. Krista didn't give him a chance to draw it. With a deafening roar, she leapt at him, knocking him to the ground and snatching his gun herself. As he tried to grab a handful of her hair, she scrambled to her feet and sprinted away, running like mad. As she ran, she swore that the next time she saw Sache she was going to offer her a lifetime of unpaid servitude and worship. She'd never expected those scant but rigorous weeks of Nubian self-defense training would save her life, but already they had.

  
  


As soon as she reached another door she slammed and locked it behind her, panting wildly. Her heart was hammering so fiercely she thought it might burst out of her rib cage, but she only hesitated a moment. She knew what she had to do.

  
  


It was only the work of a few minutes to find the cockpit. She kicked the door open and sprinted toward the nearest pilot before the others could react, placing her nozzle of her stolen gun against his temple as everyone around her froze. "Nobody move, or I remove a vital organ!" she screamed. Noticing furtive movement behind her, she spun wildly around. "All of you--get in front of me! Drop all your weapons on the ground and put your hands in the air!"

  
  


Shooting her evil looks, the Gerogonians complied.

  
  


"Now, you," she addressed the silently shaking man she held hostage, "are going to set this ship down on the nearest planet."

  
  


"B-but we're not close to anything," he stammered. "It would take days--"

  
  


"Do you take me for some sort of idiot?" she hissed. "I know we wouldn't be out of lightspeed unless we were in orbit of some planet. Land this ship now or I start to remove unessential parts of you first. And don't you dare radio anyone and tell them anything," she added to the room in general. "If the Nubian vessel behind us hails us, tell them to follow us down, but nothing more. Is that clear?" They all nodded warily. "Good. Now get moving!"

  
  


It was astonishing how quickly the cockpit became a blur of motion. Out of the viewscreen in front of her, she could see a planet loom suddenly into view, massive and beautifully inviting. She could only pray that it wasn't a place wholly loyal to the Gerogonians she was currently holding hostage, or she was pretty much screwed.

  
  


As they drew nearer, however, she realized the view was vaguely familiar. "Coruscant!" she said, shocked.

  
  


"Yes, ma'am," the navigator returned nervously. "Wh-where should I land?"

  
  


Krista frantically scanned the great expanse of city before her. Spotting a vaguely familiar-looking building, she gestured at it fiercely. "Over there!"

  
  


Nodding jerkily, the navigator complied, steering the ship toward the designated location.

  
  


After a few tense moments, a beep made everyone jump. "Er . . . ma'am?" one of the others said warily. "Our two escorts are hailing us, demanding to be told what's going on."

  
  


"Make no reply," Krista snarled, biting her lip. It was only a matter of time before they figured out what was going on, but they wouldn't dare shoot at a vessel containing the Prince.

  
  


It was several teeth-grinding minutes later before the navigator finally set the ship down on a well-trafficked landing pad. "Good," Krista said, wondering what to do next. "Now-"

  
  


Before she could finish her sentence, the door slammed open behind her, shocking her into whipping around. The Prince and five armed guards stood there, guns all trained on her.

  
  


"Drop your weapon!" one cried. "Give it up, girl!"

  
  


For the space of a heartbeat Krista was frozen, unable to decide what to do. Then, quicker than thought, she whirled around and fired--right into the transparent viewscreen.

  
  


It shattered under the hail of blows, and even as everyone instinctively flinched back, Krista threw herself forward, diving through the shards of broken and falling grass to the freedom of the ground below.

  
  


She hit hard, but as soon as she got her feet under her she started running, sprinting off into the distance like mad. Her mind barely registered the gleaming Nubian starfighter setting down on the pad behind her, and she certainly didn't have the presence of mind to think to run toward it. In a blind panic, she just raced ahead, shoving through crowds and frantically preying, as the Gerogonian guards boiled out of the ship behind her and shot off in hurried pursuit.

  
  


As she made a sharp turn down another alley, her long gown tangling around her legs and her breath hitching in her throat, it occurred to her that the situation didn't look good at all.


	8. Reunions

HEY: I know I don't usually leave an author's note, but tonight I'm in the mood. To everyone who's reading this story, love love love and and all that, and remember that reviews are like manna from the wilderness, feeding starving artists. So please enjoy the continuing adventures, but if you're out there and you haven't left a contribution in the little box yet, feel free. Thanks! And now to the story . . .

  
  
  
  


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Danielle had never felt more self-conscious in her entire life. Truth be told, the reason wasn't hard to fathom; she wore one of her new outfits, consisting of knee-high black boots, hardy black pants, and a swirling black surcoat, which gave her a rather menacing appearance, in her opinion at least. At her side, painfully obvious with every step, was strapped a blaster, loaded and ready for use. Best of all, to either side of her walked a giant man-eating Nexxu and a fully armed Jedi padawan.

  
  


"Cheer up," Obi-Wan said calmly, striding briskly beside her as though he couldn't feel all the stares. "Why the long face?"

  
  


Danielle looked around herself with some amusement. "We're attracting a good deal of attention, you realize."

  
  


"Are we?" He glanced up, looked around, and noticed all the curious stares. "Ah. Indeed we are. Suppose I should whip out my lightsaber and give 'em a real show?"

  
  


Danielle choked. "Force, no. It's just . . . I feel like a circus act."

  
  


"No, that's Sweetums' job," he returned, earning himself a glare. "We're just walking him, after all."

  
  


"I . . . I just wish we didn't have to do it in public is all," Danielle muttered.

  
  


"Well, walking him in the Temple wasn't working, and you know what he was like when he wasn't getting any exercise," the Jedi pointed out rationally. "I think I shall never forget the look on Shaak Ti's face when she saw him come barreling down the hall, chasing after a giant levitating fish . . ."

  
  


Danielle groaned. "Don't remind me! His sudden penchant for attempting to eat Gumbi is . . . well, the word that leaps to mind is 'typical'. The idiot fish even seems to enjoy it, damn him." She shook her head ruefully at the memory. "What a scenario! And I bet the sight of myself chasing after them just completed the ensemble."

  
  


"I bet it did," he agreed. "Besides, I don't see as how you should be complaining. It was you that wanted to keep this monster in the first place, after all."

  
  


As if it could understand him, Sweetums fixed Obi-Wan with an evil eye and growled, rather loudly. The area around them cleared in a remarkably quick amount of time.

  
  


"I was just teasing, feline," Obi-Wan said uneasily, looking at Danielle for support. "You know I don't think you're a monster."

  
  


"While he may be lying," Danielle said in what she thought was a genuinely supportive manner, "you don't have permission to eat him, remember? Or hurt him. He's my friend."

  
  


Disappointed, Sweetums gave the little yipping meow for which he had quickly grown infamous and butted Danielle so hard she fell down, taking an unhappy Obi-Wan with her.

  
  


When they had stood up and brushed themselves off, Obi-Wan shot Sweetums unkind looks while Danielle glared at the small crowd that had gathered around them (keeping a respectable distance away, of course). "See something you like?" she asked rather rudely, but she achieved her desired result; the crowd broke up and at least pretended to go about their normal business.

  
  


As they strolled along, Danielle breathed in the fresh air happily. Despite her complaints, it was nice to get out of the Temple every so often. "The only problem," she muttered, "is this blasted gun."

  
  


"Blasted or not," Obi-Wan said cheerfully, "you should get used to carrying a weapon with you. Coruscant isn't always the nicest of planets, and besides, you live with us. Who knows what might befall you while we're away? Or you may need to defend us. Just think: some day, you may get your own lightsaber."

  
  


Danielle choked at the rather vivid mental image that conjured. "God forbid," she said with feeling. "Besides, I don't see the point of carrying it when I've made it quite clear I won't shoot anyone with it."

  
  


"Despite your firm resolve, you still have the skills to shoot someone; and even if you don't want to do that, you can just wave it around and look intimidating."

  
  


"Like you do with your lightsaber?" she asked innocently, and got a Force pinch in return.

  
  


Before she could return the gesture, a scream split the air.

  
  


It was absolutely astonishing how quickly the atmosphere changed. The crowd rippled in shock, many people diving out of the way, others drawing weapons. Danielle and Obi-Wan were no exception; despite her protests, Danielle's gun was up and poised in a millisecond (due to Qui-Gon's rigorous training) and Obi-Wan's lightsaber was ignited and crackling even more quickly. Sweetums growled and bristled menacingly, ready for battle to defend his two pets.

  
  


"Where did it come from?" Danielle asked Obi-Wan.

  
  


Another cry, and a sudden hail of gunshots, answered her question for her.

  
  


Obi-Wan took off almost before it happened, and with a cry Danielle scrambled to keep up. Sweetums tore along beside her, daring anyone to even look threateningly at his beloved.

  
  


It was only a few minutes before they whipped around a corner and saw a small figure clothed entirely in white sprinting along, hair streaming behind her like dark and white ribbons. Behind her were no less than a dozen armed men, all in shockingly pink uniforms, firing at her heedlessly.

  
  


Obi-Wan reacted almost too quickly to see properly. He dove into the street in a path that intercepted the fleeing young woman, causing her to skid to a stop and slam right into Danielle's waiting arms. Shoving the girl behind her, Danielle instantly drew back and began firing as Obi-Wan deftly snapped each and every of the innumerable shots back at their attackers. At first, they thought they were doing well; then another dozen guards spilled around the corner, looking mad as hornets and all too willing to add their fire to their comrades'.

  
  


Good though he may be, Obi-Wan was impossibly outnumbered, even for a Jedi. He was still deflecting all the shots, but their attackers were moving slowly forward, and in a moment they'd be able to shoot past the arc of his blade and hit the Jedi and his two charges.

  
  


Desperate, Danielle looked over her shoulder. "Sweetums!!!"

  
  


With a stentorian roar of pure rage, the Nexxu leapt clear over her and Obi-Wan and straight into the midst of their attackers, long tail whipping furiously and jaws snapping angrily. Panicked, they scattered at first, unable to cope with a giant monster attacking them out of nowhere.

  
  


However, it was only a matter of time before they regained their wits and killed the unguarded Nexxu. Horrified, Danielle increased the tempo of her shots, focusing so intently on keeping her beloved Nexxu safe that she didn't even notice the single foe who crept away from the others to sneak past the arc of Obi-Wan's still-flashing blade.

  
  


She heard only a sharp laugh before she whirled, horrified, to see a dark man looming over her, leering horribly. Stumbling backward, she fumbled for her gun as he leveled his at her head-and a gunshot sounded.

  
  


Danielle gasped, thinking, for one endless moment, that she'd been shot--but then she realized it was her attacker who was stumbling away, a bloody hole in his stomach. She turned, amazed, and saw the girl, still a pool of white robes on the floor, had half-risen on one arm and raised a gun to shoot the man off Danielle. She was still in that position now, trembling all over, face as white as her dress.

  
  


"Thank you," Danielle gasped, astonished; she would have said more, but a shot got past the arc of Obi-Wan's blade and singed her sleeve, and she returned to the battle at hand.

  
  


Obi-Wan had seen Danielle's near-fatal accident and was now growing dangerously angry. She could feel it in the increase of his blade's tempo, the hum of dark energy around him, even over the hellish noise of shots and Sweetums' terrifying battle cries. Pausing a moment in his defense, he flung out a single hand and summoned the Force. As one, their attackers slammed backward under a wall of the Force-power, some not getting up again. Danielle heard the girl behind her draw in her breath in astonishment, but she didn't have the time to spare to look at her, so she merely continued firing.

  
  


Just as they were beginning to tire and it seemed no more aid was coming, a shout from behind the pink-clad men made many of them turn. There, to everyone's astonishment, were perhaps three-dozen white-clad guards and young women, all armed, firing at their attackers with determined cries.

  
  


After this, it was a rout. The battle continued for only a few moments more before the pink-clad men threw down their weapons and surrendered.

  
  


As soon as their weapons had been gathered, a single dark-haired young woman strode forward, expression frozen in icy rage. "Prince Lyle of Gerogonia," she intoned coldly, "you stand charged of kidnaping and assault with intended rape against my handmaiden, a one Lady Kristae of Naboo. I, Queen Amidala of the Naboo, will see you brought to justice before the Senate and the High Court for these crimes. For your actions, the negotiations between our governments are now considered null, as your father is already aware. Have you anything to say for yourself?"

  
  


A tall young man, one of their surviving attackers (five of the two dozen had been slain or severely wounded), met her eyes for a long moment. At last, he shook his head slowly.

  
  


"Then I will see you in court," Amidala said coldly. She gestured to her men. "Take them away."

  
  


The white-clad guards marched the Gerogonians off roughly in the opposite direction as Danielle stood staring in astonishment. Before she could speak, however, the girl who had been the cause of all this trouble dropped her gun with a cry and sprinted across the causeway, throwing herself into the open arms of the Queen, who received her with a cry of joy. The others mobbed around her as well, sobbing and laughing to have her back. "You're safe! You're alive!" was repeated over and over amidst all the other babble.

  
  


Danielle wanted very badly to talk to them, at least ask what was going on, but she heard a low moan and turned.

  
  


Obi-Wan stood there, lightsaber disengaged in his hand, face pale and haunted. His blue eyes blazed with a terrible fire. "Danielle," he whispered, shaking his head. "I--I was so angry --Force help me, but I almost--"

  
  


It was impossible not to know what he meant. Danielle had seen the rage in his face, felt the dark energy swirling around him in such stark contrast to the Light that usually radiated from him. But she hadn't known he had realized it, as well.

  
  


Danielle went to him and pulled his head down to hers, wrapping her arms around his neck. Shaking with the aftereffects of his near-fatal mistake, he returned the embrace, drawing strength from the absoluteness of her love. Sweetums, uninjured from the battle, sidled up to them, whining anxiously, and butted both of them.

  
  


"Shhh," she whispered soothingly, stroking his back as he shuddered into her shoulder. "Shhh. You didn't and you wouldn't have. I know you wouldn't have. That's not who you are, Obi-Wan. It's not."

  
  


It was some moments later before he was able to release her, and even then, he was still visibly shaken. "Thank you," he whispered, blue eyes bright and less haunted than before.

  
  


Danielle smiled and ruffled his spiky hair with long familiarity, winning herself another smile. "You're welcome," she said tenderly. Then, giving him a moment to recover his dignity, she turned to watch the events that unfolded.

  
  


The girl was still throwing herself from one white-clad figure to another with loving disregard for onlookers. "Sache!" she now cried, latching onto another young woman. "God, if you hadn't taught me all that self-defense, I wouldn't be here now!" Her voice, Danielle noted with a strange sensation, was weirdly familiar.

  
  


Amidala, extricating herself from the crowd, approached Danielle and Obi-Wan, trying not to eye Sweetums with too much apprehension. "Hello. I am Queen Amidala, of the Naboo. I cannot express to the two--excuse me, the three of you," she corrected herself with a smile, glancing at Sweetums, "how grateful we are for your aid. Without you, I've no doubt our dear Kristae would be dead or recaptured right now. We all owe you our eternal gratitude. May I have your names?"

  
  


"I'm Danielle," she introduced herself, hoping the single name would suffice. "This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, of the Jedi order." It felt a little strange to introduce the two, having looked down the long corridor of history that lay before them and knowing how interconnected their two lives would eventually become.

  
  


Suddenly Danielle's throat felt a little tight. Unless events were somehow altered, it couldn't be too long now before the Trade Federation blockaded Naboo. And then . . . Qui-Gon . . . No!

  
  


Amidala neatly derailed her train of thought. "It is a great honor. Now," she glanced back over her shoulder, "I should like to introduce--"

  
  


She was cut off by a deep and tremulous gasp from behind her. As Danielle watched in astonishment, the crowd of white-clad figures parted, allowing the girl they had originally saved to come through.

  
  


"Holy shit," she breathed in that same, eerily familiar voice. "Danielle!"

  
  


Danielle stared at her blankly. How did this girl know who she was? She was wholly unfamiliar, dressed as she was in that stunning white dressed with dagged sleeves and her long brown hair in a disarray of curls and ribbons . . .

  
  


Then she focused on her astonished face, shockingly free of glasses and subtly made up, and knew.

  
  


"Krista!" she breathed weakly.

  
  


For a moment there was utter silence as the two girls faced each other. Then Krista was off like a small bullet, throwing herself into Danielle's arms with a cry as everyone stared on in total amazement. Danielle caught her with the ease of long practice, swinging her much smaller friend in a wide circle as they both laughed with joy.

  
  


"God, God, God, you're here, too! I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" Krista gasped over and over, hugging her taller friend so tightly she nearly cracked a few ribs.

  
  


When they finally released each other, they clasped hands tightly. "This is . . . this is so creepy!" Danielle said. "All this time, I thought I was the only one . . ."

  
  


"Me too," Krista agreed. She eyed her friend in wonder. "How long . . . ?"

  
  


"Weeks. It's starting to feel so real . . . you?"

  
  


"Same here. Geez, Danielle, where have you been?"

  
  


"The Jedi Temple. I'm living with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon," she added maliciously, watching Krista's eyes pop nearly out of her head.

  
  


"No fooling? Well, as you can see, I've been on Naboo." She lowered her voice so the onlookers couldn't hear. "I woke up in some effing meadow and people were calling me 'Handmaiden' left and right--"

  
  


"Similar story here, except nobody knew me. Wow, Krista, look at you! I almost didn't recognize you, in this getup! Your dress-the makeup-your hair--" She fought incredulous giggles.

  
  


"What do you think you're talking about? What are you, some kind of Jedi now, in your fancy boots and hanging around with Obi-Wan? And what's with the frickin' Nexxu?!"

  
  


"Excuse me, ladies?"

  
  


Both girls stopped talking, only to realize that everyone else was staring at them in total bewilderment. It was Amidala who had voiced the question.

  
  


"You know this girl, Danielle?" Obi-Wan asked just as Sache said, "You two know each other, I assume?"

  
  


"Uh . . . yeah," Krista said with a grin, turning to face her queen. "My lady, this is Danielle, one of my oldest and bestest buddies." Danielle favored them all with her stupid smile.

  
  


Obi-Wan looked totally lost. "But, Danielle . . . you have amnesia. How is it that you remember this girl?"

  
  


Danielle shrugged and smiled shyly. "I don't know. I just . . . do."

  
  


Krista bluffed admirably; but then, this was no surprise. Krista had always been able to lie extremely well (practice makes perfect, perhaps?). "Amnesia? Well, I can answer a few questions, to be sure. She's an old friend of mine from the little town where I grew up, on Naboo. We were best friends for several years, but she left for Coruscant to . . . study, wasn't that it? Take an apprenticeship under someone?"

  
  


Danielle tried to look thoughtful and bewildered all at once. "Yes . . . yes, that sounds a little familiar. For . . . archaeology, wasn't it?"

  
  


"Don't remember," Krista said with a shrug and a grin. "But if you have questions about her past, I can probably answer most of them, and help her regain her memories." The two girls grinned at one another in perfect understanding.

  
  


Obi-Wan looked devastated. "Well, then," he said softly. "Now you can go home."

  
  


Danielle's head whipped up and she met him stare for stare. Leaving Krista, she walked back over to him. "I may have been raised on Naboo," she said quietly, "but my home is here now, Obi-Wan. With you, and Qui-Gon, and Sweetums, and even Gumbi." She smiled gently.

  
  


He returned the expression hesitantly, then with all the brilliance he normally exuded. "Well, then, well met, ladies," he said formally, with a deep bow. "If you would like to clean up or tend to any injuries, I can offer you the hospitality of the Jedi Temple."

  
  


"Thank you, Master Jedi," Amidala said with a smile, "but as we'll probably be here for a while, I imagine we'll take rooms at the Palace. We do have to testify against the Gerogonians, after all. We'll be here for weeks at the very least. During that time," she bent a kindly smile on Danielle, "you're welcome to stay with us, dear."

  
  


"Thank you, your majesty," Danielle said, inclining her head, "but I stay with the Jedi. However . . . I would ask if perhaps Lady--Kristae," she stumbled only a little over the name, "would like to stay with us, for the duration of the stay. We haven't seen each other in many years."

  
  


Amidala looked at her inquiringly. "Kristae?"

  
  


Krista looked at Danielle and Obi-Wan and smiled. It was an extremely predatory expression, and Danielle had absolutely no doubt about exactly what her diabolical friend was planning when she said, "If you don't mind, your majesty, I'd love to."

  
  


"As long as we get to see a bit of you, after having been so worried," Sache said tartly, putting her hands on her hips.

  
  


"That's not a problem," Krista grinned. "The Palace is right next to the Temple, I think? And how could I live without seeing all my girls?"

  
  


"Then it's settled," Danielle said magnanimously. "Krista will stay with us, and we'll help you convict those Gerogonian scumbags." She winked at a very amused Obi-Wan, then smiled at all the Nubians. "Welcome to Coruscant, everyone."

  
  
  
  
  
  


When Annie had finished, Obi-Wan sat silently for a very long time.

  
  


"It is . . . hard to credit," he said at last, shaking his head. "But you know so much . . . I do not know how you could know so much. Surely anyone might now how I trained Anakin, and Qui-Gon before me; most records may have been destroyed, but certainly not all, and memories go on eternally. And some of the events of the rebellion, yes, you should know. But the other things you know--of Vader's redemption, Yoda's training of Luke, their parents; and, before that, of Naboo--that was well-documented, to be sure, but Geonosis? And what you say happened to Anakin, on Tatooine, with the Tuskens--I never even knew of that." He looked up at her at last, obviously torn between wonder and skepticism. "I simply don't know what to think."

  
  


Annie shrugged. "You don't have to believe me," she said gently. "But that is the truth as I know it, and I will stand by it."

  
  


He looked at her keenly. "And I can sense no deception in you, either. By the Force, you really are telling the truth, aren't you?" He looked amazed. "Perhaps somewhere in our galaxy is an account of the doings of your own planet."

  
  


Annie jumped. Somehow, this possibility had never occurred to her. She was so used to looking at this experience as a one-way kind of thing, the real person in the unreal world, that hearing it might be a joint problem unsettled her seriously. That meant--there could be Star Wars people wandering around Earth!

  
  


She wasn't sure whether the thought of that was wonderful or terrifying. (And it explained that guy in her History class, too . . .)

  
  


"This necklace you speak of--may I see it?"

  
  


She drew it off her head with an unfathomable reluctance. It had been weeks since she'd even remembered it existed, so accustomed had she grown to wearing it constantly, and she hated somehow to remove it. It reminded her, again, of the One Ring; could the pendant be subtly manipulating her?

  
  


After a moment Kenobi shook his head and handed it back. "It means nothing to me. I do not know the script in which that is written. I am sorry, but I cannot help you with that."

  
  


She slipped it over her head again. "That's all right. I just . . . I guess I was just hoping you might have some answers, is all."

  
  


The spirit stood and drifted to the window. "All these past weeks I had thought my work complete. I have seen the Skywalker saga to its conclusion; at least, so far as it concerns myself. The Emperor and Vader are dead; the Rebellion has triumphed. But now . . . the Force presents this entirely new mystery to me, and I do not know what to make of it."

  
  


Annie looked shyly away. "But . . . why did you help me, then, and bring me here?"

  
  


He smiled wryly. "You might say it was just a lingering remnant of my old Jedi training; protect the innocent and all that. But I will confess there was more to it than that; a premonition, of sorts . . . I knew I was meant to bring you here, when you wandered into the Judland Wastes."

  
  


Annie stared at him. "Why?"

  
  


"That I do not know. I do not question the will of the Force; I merely obey it."

  
  


She blinked, rather uncertainly. "So . . . what do we do now?"

  
  


He turned and smiled at her. "We wait."

  
  


"Wait? Wait for what?"

  
  


"You'll see."

  
  
  
  


The days she spent in Kenobi's hut were surprisingly peaceful, and helped her regain some measure of sanity and calm. Her tasks were few and simple; she cooked, cleaned, gathered moisture, did simple repairs, looked through his old things quite shamelessly, and talked with the spectral Jedi Master. He taught her no small amount of things; about the galaxy in general, about Tatooine, about surviving in the desert, even about the Force. It was truly fascinating, and all new to her.

  
  


It was no surprise, then, that she fell into life at the little hut rather easily, making that common mistake of growing too comfortable in her surroundings. Thus, it was only natural that the harmony she had created for herself should be interrupted.

  
  


She was in the kitchen one day, singing one of her hit songs aloud to herself she scrubbed dishes. To her right, they seemed to be drying themselves as Obi-Wan, not bothering to become visible, helped her out with the task.

  
  


It was some moments before she got a sudden sinking sensation that someone was watching her. For a moment she tried to ignore it--then she heard the door open behind her.

  
  


She whirled, the plate she'd been cleaning dropping to the floor with a crash, to confront the newcomer. She saw who it was--and stopped dead.

  
  


Luke Skywalker stood before her, in the flesh, sandy hair tousled by wind and sun and black boots dusty from the trek inside. He was dressed all in black, not a very intelligent choice for desert dwelling, but he seemed impervious to the heat, and Annie remembered he'd grown up here. His eyes, so shockingly, purely blue, were wide open and fixed squarely on her.

  
  


For a moment neither spoke, trying to fathom what they might possibly say. Then, at last, Annie summoned her courage.

  
  


"Er . . . hello."

  
  


He blinked, and recovered. "Excuse me. I had no idea . . . do you live here now?"

  
  


She frowned slightly. "I don't live here, no, but I have been staying here for the past few days. Waiting for . . ." She trailed off, realizing in that instant. "You," she whispered.

  
  


He stared at her. "Waiting for . . . me? Do you even know who I am?"

  
  


"You will find," an ethereal voice said, amused, "that she knows a good deal more than she ought to."

  
  


"Ben!" Luke sounded relieved. "I came here to find you."

  
  


"And now you've found me. What did you want?"

  
  


Luke looked at Annie uneasily, and she found herself suddenly unable to breathe. My God; here she was, standing in a room with the one, the only, the very real Luke . . . Skywalker!

  
  


"Well . . . I'd rather hoped to discuss a few things . . . you know . . . in private."

  
  


Kenobi laughed again, become visible at last. "My dear boy, I don't think there's much you can have to say that this little wonder doesn't already know. In fact, I think she knows more about you than you do. She certainly knows far too much about me for my peace of mind." He grinned at her, and she grinned back easily.

  
  


Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"

  
  


"Explanations later. Suffice it to say that she is a rebel that I found being menaced by Tuskens out in the desert, and I saved her and brought her here to meet you."

  
  


Annie bobbed a little curtsey, feeling more than slightly mad. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Annie."

  
  


"And I'm Luke Skywalker," he replied, rather unnecessarily.

  
  


"Right." She looked at Obi-Wan. "Well?"

  
  


The specter shrugged benevolently. "Tell him. Tell him everything."

  
  


Annie gave a deep sigh. "Why don't you sit down? This is probably going to take awhile."

  
  
  
  


Some hours later, there was again silence in the kitchen.

  
  


"Well," Luke said, looking at the mug of 'strong liquid' (as Obi-Wan had previously dubbed it, handing it to the Jedi shortly after the beginning of the narrative). "Well, well, well, well--"

  
  


He might have gone on like that indefinitely had not Obi-Wan interrupted. "Yes, thank you for that brilliant observation, Luke. I think she knows everything is well."

  
  


Luke glared at him. "You expect me to just take that in stride? This girl knows more about me than even I do, for Heaven's sake--"

  
  


"Think that's bad, do you?" Obi-Wan countered. "You should hear everything she knows about me. Downright frightening, when you think about it."

  
  


Luke blinked at her. "You . . . you know about him, too?"

  
  


"All the way back to Naboo," she said.

  
  


His blue eyes widened. "Naboo. The planet you say my mother came from." He turned huge eyes on his mentor. "You . . . you knew my mother?"

  
  


Obi-Wan snorted. "Of course I knew your mother, you idiotic boy. We were quite good friends, in fact, after a fashion. I knew her even before your father did. How else do you think you got here?"

  
  


"I . . . I . . ." Luke seemed dumbfounded, and Annie remembered that his past had always been a mystery to him. "It's just . . ."

  
  


"And if you think that's bad," she said cheerfully, "you should hear what I know about the future."

  
  


They stared at her again.

  
  


"Uh, forget I said that," she offered quickly, and Luke's jaw dropped open as Obi-Wan fought a grin.

  
  


"Enough tales," the spectral Jedi Master said firmly. "We need to figure out why you're here and how to get you home."

  
  


Annie cleared her throat softly, and they both looked at her. "Actually," she said softly, "I can't go home just yet."

  
  


"You . . . can't? Why?"

  
  


Annie looked at the table. "I have . . . friends . . . whom I left behind. They . . . they were in trouble, I think. The imperials had just come for them."

  
  


"Imperials?" Luke said, surprised. "But the Empire's been overthrown."

  
  


Obi-Wan snorted. "Out here, they probably don't even know that yet, my boy."

  
  


"And . . ." She looked up, a strange but unshakable determination in her face. "I ran, before. Well . . . Cassie told me to run, and I didn't know what else to do. But now . . . I know what I have to do." She looked from Luke to Obi-Wan. "I have to go back. I have to find them, and help them if I can, in any way."

  
  


Obi-Wan and Luke exchanged a glance. "That's certainly a brave idea," the Jedi said slowly, "but a little . . . unreasonable, don't you think?"

  
  


For a moment, fear tightened Annie's chest all over again. Then she thought of the night she'd spent alone in the desert, certain her friends were dead and that she was all alone. She thought of them helping her, guarding her, even aiding her rise to fame. Very briefly, she thought of Laura and Krista and Danielle, somewhere probably searching frantically for her, and how it seemed she'd never get to see them again. She thought of leaving Cassie and Essra to die when there might be any other way.

  
  


"I don't care," she whispered. "The risks, the odds . . . I don't care."

  
  


Two sighs escaped in uncanny unison at her words. "Sounds like someone I know," Luke told his mentor.

  
  


"Just one person?" was the ghost's response.

  
  


Luke grinned, conceding the point. He looked at Annie again, and his blue eyes were calm. "Well, if that's your decision, there's no dissuading you. However--"

  
  


Annie looked up sharply.

  
  


"However, I don't think your cause could be any the worse for wear for having a Jedi on your side," he said lightly.

  
  


Annie stared at him for a long time. Then, slowly, she started to smile.


	9. And Madness Ensued

A/N: First off, I would like to apologize for an absence so long it could easily have been construed as my death. What can I say? I'm lazy, and . . . I kindof got seduced by another fanfiction (ahem*cough*). But I'm back, and if any of you devoted people out there are actually reading this, I LOVE YOU! I'd also really love knowing that you exist, so pleeeeeeaaaase, if there's anyone out there secretly reading this, would you mind leaving a review? I admit to sniveling and cringing if I see a flame (even on someone ELSE's story), but even that would let me know I'm making an impression (besides, it's rather cold in my house right now). Well, enough of the gabbing, and enjoy the fic. It's actually beginning to develop a plot (God forbid), so read on . . .

  
  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  
  
  


The door swung open . . . and Krista's jaw dropped.

  
  


"Whoooooaaaa," she breathed, drinking in the insane atmosphere. "Shibby!"

  
  


Danielle burst into laughter as Obi-Wan started, shooting Krista a strange look. "'Shibby'?" he repeated carefully. "And what precisely does that mean?"

  
  


"I don't think it translates," Danielle said drily at the same moment Krista supplied, "It's the name of my pet fish. Shibby Dave."

  
  


There was silence.

  
  


"Something tells me this is one of those things I don't want to know," Obi-Wan said at last.

  
  


"You're learning," Danielle said encouragingly. "Now as soon as you stop asking you'll have achieved male perfection."

  
  


Krista snorted with surprised laughter. "Good God, Danielle. You're teaching him how to behave? You've heard Laura's oratory too many times, I think." Suddenly her eyes widened in understanding. "You . . . you've been doing it for Laura, haven't you?" she asked, voice slightly hysterical.

  
  


"I figured that, just in case she shows up, he might as well be prepared," Danielle said defensively, and her small friend burst into laughter.

  
  


Sweetums, apparently unhappy at being left out of all this fun, butted Danielle, knocking her into Krista and through the door frame. "Whoa!" Krista said, staggering for balance as Danielle regained hers with the ease of long practice. "Nice . . . excuse me, big kitty." Suddenly a demonic gleam appeared in her eyes as she appraised the Nexxu who was far larger than herself. "Kitty kitty kitty," she said sweetly. "That's a nice kitty."

  
  


"Uh . . . Krista?" Danielle said uneasily. "I'm not so sure that's the smartest idea you've had in a while. I know you have this penchant for torturing cats and all, but Sweetums isn't . . . I'm not sure it's wise to . . ." She trailed off helplessly.

  
  


Sweetums regarded Krista coldly for a moment as the young woman walked slowly toward him, hands extended. Then, unmistakably, he started to growl. The sound made all the knick-knacks in the room vibrate alarmingly and the floor shook a little under their feet.

  
  


"Yeah . . . okay," Krista said, backing away hastily with both hands extended before her. "That's right. I'll just . . . leave the nice big kitty alone."

  
  


"I give her a week before he eats her," Obi-Wan said callously, earning himself a glare from Krista.

  
  


"Well," Danielle sighed, shutting the door behind them, "it's not much, but it's home."

  
  


"Not much?" Krista echoed. Her eyes took in the various plants, the dazzling array of artwork, the sparkling music crystals in every corner. "What are you talking about? This is so spiffy!" She gave an abbreviated maniacal laugh. "Lemme guess. You did the decorating."

  
  


"However could you tell?" Obi-Wan called.

  
  


Danielle stuck her tongue out at him, then removed her gun like it was something toxic, turned off its power supply, and set it on a dresser with great relief. "Well. Now that you're staying with us, I guess you can share the bed with me. There's plenty of space--any things you have can go in my room, too. With a little rearranging, I'm sure we'll be able to--"

  
  


"Wait," Obi-Wan said suspiciously, coming back into the living room. "She's only here for a couple of weeks, right? Why are we discussing this like it's a permanent situation?"

  
  


Two sets of cool eyes stared back at him.

  
  


"Oh . . . right. Of course. This apartment just didn't have enough warm bodies in it with three people, a floating fish, and a giant predatory feline; always room for more." Shaking his ginger head disparagingly, he returned to the kitchen to make himself a consolation cup of hot chocolate, a new addiction to which Danielle had introduced him.

  
  


"Snarky, isn't he?" Krista asked, watching him go with her hands on her hips and chocolatey eyes narrowed shrewdly.

  
  


"He's had a rough day. A mug of hot chocolate and he'll be back to his old self, you'll see. He's also probably anticipating Qui-Gon's reaction to you--which, really, should be pretty fun." Danielle grinned, imagining the scenario herself.

  
  


The gleam reappeared in Krista's eye. "And just when exactly should our favorite Master be getting home?"

  
  


Danielle shrugged, stretching. "Dunno. The Council sent him off on some little errand, but he said he'd be back sometime today. In the meantime, we'll just get dinner started and wait for him to show up. That's our usual routine, you know, whenever somebody's on a mission."

  
  


"Sounds like a plan," Krista said, following Danielle out of the room and into the kitchen, where Obi-Wan did his best to ignore them. "So . . .what have we got for music in this joint?"

  
  


"Take a guess," Danielle sighed sadly.

  
  


Krista's entire demeanor darkened. "Let me think. Nothin' here, too?"

  
  


"Just this side of diddly."

  
  


"Well, great. And here I thought it was only the lovely Naboo ladies who had no taste in music. Danielle, please tell me: how am I supposed to survive prolonged amounts of time without Rush or Styx?"

  
  


"The same way I survive without Queen," Danielle said sternly, starting to remove an ominous selection of pots from various cabinets.

  
  


"But it's not as bad for you," Krista whined, flopping into a chair as Obi-Wan eyed her warily. "John Williams music just kindof hangs in the air and floats everywhere."

  
  


Danielle rolled her eyes as she started expertly bringing the massive oven-like-contraption to life. "Either help or go take a shower."

  
  


Krista sniffed herself rather un-subtly and frowned. "Was that a hint?"

  
  


"That was more than a hint, it was an order. You can borrow some of my things until we get you some new clothes, but that dress needs to go." She looked at her friend with raised eyebrows.

  
  


Krista looked at it sadly. Soiled, torn, and rather worn, it also emitted a very pungent odor. It was still beautiful, but it needed some serious cleaning and repairs before it was fit to be seen in public. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? I really kind of liked it, too."

  
  


Danielle froze. "You liked . . . a dress? What exactly did they do to you on Naboo?"

  
  


"Don't read too much into it," Krista snapped, suddenly in a hurry to leave the room.

  
  


Danielle grinned as she poured oil into the skillet on the counter. "Wouldn't dream of it," she purred.

  
  
  
  


An hour later, Krista returned, feeling more like herself than she had in ages dressed in a pair of Danielle's pants that had been severely altered to stay on her and an insanely huge, baggy leather jacket over a black tank. Dinner--a roasted beast of some kind Krista had never encountered, a gift of Obi's new culinary lessons--was being served rather informally, the two girls and the Jedi sprawled comfortably around the table and looking forward to the excellent meal.

  
  


A little into the meal, Danielle was casually feeding scraps of her food to Sweetums, who lay at her side with his huge head purring in her lap, as Krista told them of her recent adventures. Danielle laughed uproariously at her tales of the banquet and the Gerogonian's unwanted wooing, and marveled at all she'd done in the scant weeks she'd been on Naboo. Even as Krista told it, she felt a little uncomfortable herself, amazed at how much this nonexistent galaxy was starting to feel like . . . home.

  
  


Now she was in the middle of her kidnap and escape; Danielle was rabid, amazed at how brave her friend had been.

  
  


"--so I really kinda panicked; I just took off, not knowing where I was or where I was going. They followed me, of course, and Amidala and her men were right on their heels, but I didn't know that. It was like some mad follow-the-leader game, and I was trying to run in this friggin' dress of all things, when I turned this corner and bam--ran smack into you guys. That lightsaber, Obi," she waved a hand at Obi-Wan, "was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life. You guys saved my life." She smiled at Danielle, who smiled right back.

  
  


"Well, you saved mine, too," she said warmly. "Shooting that guy right off my back--he'll know better than to mess with us ever again, you better believe."

  
  


"Yeah." Krista looked a little self-conscious. "All those stupid weapons drills of Sache's really did have an impact, I guess. A little higher and I might've killed him."

  
  


There was a horrible pause, then Danielle cleared her throat. "So, anyway. I guess we've given Qui-Gon about long enough, don't you think?"

  
  


"Definitely," Obi-Wan agreed, eyeing the steaming dishes hungrily.

  
  


"Surely you're not going to start without me?"

  
  


They all turned to see a very amused Qui-Gon standing in the doorway. "Qui," Danielle said happily. "Just in time for dinner. Obi made that roasted grif-graf-whatever it was that you said you liked. Perfect timing."

  
  


"A Jedi's specialty," he said solemnly. "I didn't want to keep the two of you--" He stopped suddenly. "Or three," he added after a long pause, staring at Krista.

  
  


Krista stared right back, eyes equally wide, everything and everyone else in the kitchen suddenly unimportant.

  
  


"Qui-Gon, this is Kristae, the newest member of our little household," Danielle said cheerfully. "She's a handmaiden from Naboo, and she'll be staying with us for a little while. Oh, and we'll probably be visiting the Queen of Naboo and all the other handmaidens frequently over the next few weeks, so don't be too surprised if any of them turn up or give us a call."

  
  


"Oh . . . right," Qui-Gon said, mesmerized by the incredibly strange way Krista was looking at him and the incredible depth of her chocolate-brown eyes and the light that seemed to glimmer fathoms below their surface. "Nice to meet you . . . Kristae."

  
  


Krista was equally spellbound, her breath caught just in her throat. As Obi-Wan and Danielle watched, surprised, they stared at each other for a few moments longer before Krista stood up and walked over to him, slowly, and extended a hand. He took it almost dazedly, and they shook. No one even noticed the long, toothily grinning fish waft in over their heads and start to swat Sweetums in the face with his long, flippy tail.

  
  


"Nice to meet you too," she said softly. "I've been looking forward to it for such a long time."

  
  


There was a pause.

  
  


"So . . . you'll be staying with us for a little while, then?" he asked uncertainly, still looking dazed.

  
  


"Er . . . that's right. Danielle's an old buddy of mine. We go back a loooooong way. Idn that right, Cello?" she grinned, invoking her musical friend's old nickname.

  
  


"Sadly," Danielle muttered, realizing with a sort of glum premonition what Krista's evil smile betokened.

  
  


Qui-Gon seemed to be flailing for subjects to discuss. "Well . . . that's . . . good to know." Krista just raised her eyebrows at him.

  
  


Another pause. Danielle thought she could hear the heart of the severely undercooked (the perils of Cooking With Obi-Wan) graf-whatsis beating.

  
  


Again, Qui-Gon tried to start a sane conversation. "So . . . you're a Handmaiden?"

  
  


"Damn straight. And you're a Jedi. I've always wanted to meet one of you, you know. You have such a glamorous career: dramatic fight scenes and billowing cloaks and, of course, lightsabers." Her eyes slipped down to his belt. "Speaking of which . . . That's a nice lightsaber. " Krista gave him her most blinding, innocent smile. It would have been far more effective if Danielle hadn't known that it always preceded some excessively wicked comment. And, sure enough, Krista continued speaking. "You know, is it true what they say, that the size of your lightsaber is directly proportional to--"

  
  


Instincts and her newly developed premonition helped Danielle clap her hand over Krista's mouth just in time, before the damning word or euphemism escaped. Simultaneously, Obi-Wan snorted and spit out his drink in astonishment while Qui-Gon merely looked on blankly. In the ensuing pause (which surpassed all the others in drama and meaning), Danielle thanked any and all deities that Qui-Gon had led a fairly sheltered life as a Jedi and now simply seemed bewildered at his two charges' dramatic reactions.

  
  


Danielle removed her hand after some moments, then kicked Krista sharply under the table when the other girl only grinned more widely. As Krista let out a little, "Ouf!" and Obi-Wan wheezed for breath, Danielle said hastily, "You'll have to excuse Kristae. Her sense of humor can be a little . . . un-humorous."

  
  


Krista glared daggers, but Qui-Gon just looked at her. "Naturally," he said, looking more bewildered than ever. "A pleasure. Yes. I'll just--go get my boots, then," he informed them nonsensically.

  
  


Obi-Wan stared at him Master like he'd grown another head, Danielle shook her head in shame for her mentor's sudden lack of coherence--and Krista? Krista smiled like he'd just announced Christmas had come early and propped her chin in her hand, looking at him with dreamy eyes. "I just love a man with really long boots," she purred.

  
  


This time Danielle didn't bother to be subtle; she just hauled off and whacked Krista in the head as the other girl ducked and cursed and Obi-Wan's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Behave!" Danielle hissed, and Krista shot Danielle her patented "Who, me?" look.

  
  


When Qui-Gon merely looked at them like they were all insane, Danielle groaned internally. She'd been mistaken. This wasn't Star Wars. This was hell, and she was in it. "Weren't you going to have some dinner with us, Qui?" she asked plaintively.

  
  


He never so much as looked at her; his eyes stayed locked on Krista. "Er--yes--to be sure--I just should do this one--little--thing first. Really not long; don't wait for me . . . go on, go on, have fun." Tearing his gaze away, he fled. A sensible man would have done so long ago.

  
  


Krista turned and gave the two remaining members of the room a smile that showed a disturbing number of teeth. "I think I'll just go . . . give him a hand," she informed them, smile growing broader with every second. "Tata." With that, she too disappeared.

  
  


There was silence in the kitchen. The other two occupants didn't even notice when Gumbi deserted the boring Nexxu, settled himself over their main course, and began devouring it with large gulps.

  
  


Finally, still staring at the doorway, Obi-Wan spoke. "Did he just--?"

  
  


Danielle nodded, resigned. "Uh-huh."

  
  


"And does she--?"

  
  


"Oh, yeah."

  
  


"Will they--?"

  
  


Danielle looked at him. "Do you really want to know?"

  
  


He thought about this for a moment. "No, not really."

  
  


"Good, 'cause neither do I," she replied emphatically.

  
  


There was another meaningful silence.

  
  


"Why do I get the feeling that life is going to just keep getting more and more interesting with every passing day?" Obi-Wan asked mournfully.

  
  


Danielle swatted Gumbi aside and began serving herself. "Stop asking stupid questions and pass me the sauce."

  
  
  
  
  
  


The night air whipped past Annie's face as she squinted her eyes against the darkness, trying to see anything through her incredibly thick goggles. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Luke's back, but she still flinched every time they had to swerve sharply around a rock or shot over a cliff face. It was like the most intense thrill ride she'd ever been on with the added bonus of knowing that she might actually be in danger, and that she was riding into definite risk.

  
  


They finally pulled up outside of town and Luke slowed to a stop. The two leapt off the bike and removed their helmets and goggles, stowing them on the back of the bike. Then, with a mutual glance, they headed into the shadows.

  
  


Before departing they had mutually agreed that there was to be as little violence as possible. Considering that Annie expected her friends to be in a holding cell in an Imperial base, this might have been an impossible feat if not for the presence of the Jedi at her side.

  
  


The nights on Tatooine were far from deserted, but there were at least less people to worry about and more shadows to linger in. She'd grown accustomed to it while she'd been a city dweller, but now, after over a week in the peaceful isolation of Obi-Wan's hut, she flinched at every loud noise and shied from every traveler.

  
  


Luke was a preternaturally silent and surefooted guide, moving through the pools of liquid night like a shadow himself, barely discernible in the dim lighting. Annie followed him as best she could, uncomfortably aware of how loud and conspicuous she was compared to him. Well, it's not like I wouldn't be, after all, she reassured herself. He is a Jedi.

  
  


Things progressed swimmingly at first; they passed through the more popular district without incident and cautiously proceeded into the darker, quieter part of town comprised of homes and military presence. They passed the old bar where she'd had her first gig, and Annie spared it a wistful glance--everything had started there. If they hadn't offered her sanctuary that day, Essra and Cassie wouldn't be in danger--possibly dead--right now.

  
  


With her concentration wavering, she didn't notice that they'd entered the darker, less reputable part of town surround the Imperial base. Luke drew close to her and whispered, "I'm going to go a little ways ahead, scout out the area, see if there are any guards. Watch out for patrols; the Empire likes to hire bands of thugs to wander around and pick anyone up for 'trespassing', and take them in for questioning. Stay quiet and keep me in sight, all right?"

  
  


Annie nodded, feeling a cold sweat break out over her and a little shiver of panic skitter up her spine. Flashing her a faint, reassuring smile, he melted into the shadows in front of her, visible only by the gleam of his boots and the occasional flashing of his face under his dark hood.

  
  


Annie wrapped her arms around herself as she followed more slowly, battling her terror. It's all right, she told herself repeatedly. Nothing can happen to you. There's a Jedi with you, the most good and powerful one ever to be born, and he'll make sure nothing hurts you.

  
  


Still, the instinctive desire to run, to turn around and put the yawning shadows of the night far behind her, was almost overwhelming, looming up inside of her like some horrible beast. She knew just how terrible the Empire could be. She'd heard the stories of interrogations, or just sheer torture for the fun of it, psychological trauma inflicted to make a prisoner more susceptible or amenable to their wishes . . . knew that if she were caught, she could spill the names of dozens of others vital to the survival of the Rebellion on this particular little planet, and she really doubted how well she'd hold up under torture . . .

  
  


So, what are you going to do, then? Run . . . again? Leave your helpless friends behind and flee into the only relative safety of the night? Is that all you're good for?

  
  


She didn't think so. She'd come this far, by god, escaping slavery, eluding the imperials, and even becoming a halfway decent underground operative for the Rebellion. There was obviously at least a little steel in her backbone; she could do this one last thing and help her friends. She would do it.

  
  


She was so preoccupied with her inner turmoil that she let herself fall dangerously behind and stopped paying attention to her surroundings. Unsurprisingly, in the midst of her inattention, a dark figure suddenly loomed out of the shadows in front of her, cutting her off from Luke. "Hey! You! 'Choo you doin' wandrin' on Imperial grounds this time of night? Put your hands in the air!"

  
  


With a muffled shriek, she stumbled back, tripping and falling to the packed sand beneath her. Even as she landed with a painful thump, she saw half a dozen other figures suddenly appear all around her, tall and menacing in the darkness.

  
  


Time seemed to pass absurdly slowly after that. She let out a little half-scream, fumbling for the weapon at her side she didn't even know how to use as Luke sprinted back to her side, drawing his lightsaber in a fluid motion, and the figure in front of her reached into his robes . . .

  
  


And then, for no reason at all, she felt a wave of premonition like nothing she'd ever imagined before wash over her, and she flung up her hands, crying, "Stop!"

  
  


Startled, he froze, lightsaber disengaged but still poised and ready, as the nearest dark figure drew close enough to see . . .

  
  


"Annie!" it suddenly exclaimed in that same coarse, uneducated voice. "Yer . . . yer her, ain't you? Annie? The one that sings them wunnerful songs up at the Grand Stage?"

  
  


Her heart hammering in her chest so hard that she thought it was going to crack a rib, she flashed him the bright celebrity smile she'd had good chance to perfect over the past few weeks. "That's right."

  
  


"Gee!" The delight in the mysterious giant's voice was unmistakable. "Hey, guys, lookit this! It's Annie!"

  
  


The other gangsters put up their weapons with similar expressions of astonished delight as Luke slowly, incredulously lowered his lightsaber, flashing Annie a look of total disbelief. Ignoring him, she rose to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster and walked toward her adoring fans, still smiling gently.

  
  


"Wow, ma'am, I never though' I'd get to meetcha like this . . ." another babbled senselessly, extending a clawed appendage that Annie shook without batting an eyelash.

  
  


"It's my pleasure," she assured them all magnanimously, to their increased delight.

  
  


"Could I have your autograph?" another gushed hopefully, fumbling in its dark robes for something to sign.

  
  


"Certainly," she replied, and suddenly all but one of them were hunting desperately for a memento she could make priceless.

  
  


Luke was trying to catch her eye, but she didn't dare look at him; she knew that if she did, she'd burst into hysterical laughter or collapse in a bundle of shot nerves--neither of which would be very helpful in their present situation. Instead, she accepted the writing utensils and various objects that were thrust at her from all sides and signed them numbly, hoping she was at least spelling her name correctly, while Luke hovered uncertainly at her side.

  
  


One of the alien thugs abruptly seemed to notice him for the first time. "Hey! 'Oo's he?"

  
  


"My bodyguard," Annie said promptly, and she felt Luke jerk in surprise beside her, then give her a look of mixed amusement and admiration.

  
  


They accepted this explanation without pause, and she finished signing for everyone without further questions. When she'd finished, however, the aliens glanced at each other hopefully, then at last decided they had to ask the perfunctory questions.

  
  


"Uh . . . where are yeh goin' so late at night in these parts, ma'am?" one asked hesitantly.

  
  


Annie's mind, working so well before, traitorously blanked, leaving her slack-jawed and fish-like. Luke, however, was still in possession of all his faculties. "She's got a meeting with one of those higher up," he said, gesturing vaguely at the more posh residential section. "One of 'em wants a private concert; he's thinking about signing her on for another record deal."

  
  


Exclamations of understanding came from all the aliens. "Sure thing," one said.

  
  


The leader still didn't look fully convinced. "At this hour?" he asked gruffly.

  
  


Luke shrugged. "It was supposed to be . . . hush," he said, his voice thick with meaning.

  
  


They looked embarrassed now. "Well, then, doan let us keep yeh from it. We'll just be about our business, now."

  
  


Annie gave them a coy little wave. "Nice meeting you gentlemen," she said sweetly, and a few of them waved back before converging with excited whispers and disappearing into the shadows again.

  
  


Once they were obviously out of hearing range, Luke relaxed his stance and shot Annie an amused glance. "You're either smarter than you look or criminally insane," he remarked.

  
  


Annie glared at him, still panting from pent-up panic. "Well, they didn't clap us in irons and drag us in, did they? It seemed to work well enough."

  
  


"You didn't tell me you were a celebrity."

  
  


Annie grimaced slightly. "I tend to forget myself. It . . . takes a lot of getting used to."

  
  


"I imagine." His eyes still held that gleam of amusement, but they were wary as well. "That was quite a gamble you took, though. What if they hadn't been such loyal fans? Our stealthy approach would have been for nothing."

  
  


That same strange, cold-but-not-in-a-physical-way sensation swept over her again, making goosebumps pop out on her arms. She shrugged uncomfortably. "I just . . . knew."

  
  


Luke's blue eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed again. "You . . ." Abruptly, he shook his head, as if snapping himself out of a stupor. "Well. This is a discussion for another time. Right now we have a job to do."

  
  


Annie nodded numbly, and when he set forward again, she followed him as silently as she could.

  
  


They reached the building of choice without further incident. By this point Annie was bristling like a cat, starting at every noise and practically vibrating with tension.

  
  


"Shhh," Luke soothed her quietly. "Hold it together back there. I need to figure out a way in."

  
  


Annie nodded stiffly, her eyes scanning the shadows unceasingly.

  
  


After a few tense, hair-raising minutes, Luke said softly, "Ah," and beckoned Annie after him.

  
  


"This should do nicely," he whispered, gesturing at a small grate just barely large enough to squeeze through.

  
  


Annie studied it suspiciously. "Is it unlocked?"

  
  


He shot her an eloquent glance. "Locks make no difference to Jedi."

  
  


Annie was impressed. "Mind tricks?"

  
  


He might have smiled; it was hard to tell in the dim and uncertain light. "Lightsabers."

  
  


Annie grinned. "Ah."

  
  


Luke demonstrated his impressive Jedi powers by drawing his lightsaber, igniting it, and proceeding to slice cleanly through the hinges of the grate. It swung open smoothly, and in a single swift movement he disengaged his blade, thrust it into a pocket, and caught the grate before it could hit the floor.

  
  


"Nice work," Annie said before she could stop herself. "You must have a lot of experience at breaking and entering."

  
  


"All part and parcel of the Good Guy package," he agreed solemnly; before she could respond, he slipped inside, cape flaring dramatically behind him as he slid into the dark unknown.

  
  


Annie waited until he said, slightly impatiently, "Come on!" before she followed. The passage was unpleasant; she slid down a dark tunnel rather roughly, with only the impression of being closed in on all sides, then landing with an abrupt thump on a dark floor.

  
  


She sensed Luke flinch at the slight noise she made when she hit the ground, and motioned apologetically. He brushed the gesture aside and drew his lightsaber, keeping it still and ready in his hand as he set off noiselessly across the room.

  
  


Lacking the Jedi's apparent night-vision, all Annie could make out of the room was a dark blur and several looming shapes, rather like file cabinets. Luke was moving stealthily toward a thin shaft of light that she assumed must be overnight lights on in the hallway, and she followed as carefully as she could, wincing every time she ran into something or thought she heard a noise.

  
  


Luke opened the door to the hall within infinite care, then peered cautiously outside. After a moment he motioned Annie to join him, then they stepped slowly into the hall.

  
  


The fluorescents had been dimmed to only a quarter of their usual brilliance, providing enough illumination to see by but still leaving the atmosphere hazy and unreal. Security cameras blinked implacably on the white-tiled floors and the occasional crackle of a sensor sweep washed over the room, but beyond that, all was still.

  
  


Luke stood motionless a moment, eyes half-closed, expression serene. As Annie watched, they suddenly snapped open, brilliant and focused once more. "Your friends are in the detention area," he whispered. "It's not far."

  
  


Annie gestured wordlessly at the cameras.

  
  


In response, Luke held out a hand. A ripple of something radiated out from his hand preceding them down the hall and touching every light, camera, and security station in its path. All went dead as soon as it had.

  
  


"We should be out of here before they even notice we've arrived," he said softly. "Come on; we have to hurry." Without a further word, he swept down the hall, another black shadow fading into all the rest. Annie hurried to keep up.

  
  


Their journey to the detention center was almost frighteningly easy. The building, strangely enough, appeared to be deserted, and no mechanical hazards barred the way either. By the time they descended the set of stairs leading to the captives, Annie was filled with a restrained euphoria. This might actually work. It certainly seemed to be going without a hitch so far.

  
  


In the detention area, Luke swept purposefully down the hall until he came to a specific cell. Nodding at Annie, he ignited his lightsaber and sliced neatly through the control panel, which, surprisingly, caused the metal door to slide aside.

  
  


Annie rushed into the small cell before the door had even ceased moving. Inside, she dropped to her knees next to a prone figure. "Cassie? Oh, god, Cassie!"

  
  


She'd never noticed, somehow, through all the confidence and glamor, but . . . Sick and pale from the fever, all joy and jazz stripped from her in this hellish prison, and she shrank to her original state: a girl hardly older than Annie herself, and barely, if any, wiser. What unfair deity ruled this universe, that someone so full of light and love could be brought so low?

  
  


When Annie wrung her hand desperately, Cassie gave a little tremor all over, her eyelids fluttering a little. Two startling grey eyes opened and stared directly into Annie's own. "Annie?" Cassie said weakly. "You--you really came?"

  
  


Annie embraced her friend, shaking with relief. "Oh, Cassie, I was so scared--"

  
  


To Annie's utter shock, Cassie wrenched herself out of her friend's embrace. "No! Annie, you don't understand! It's a trap!" she moaned.

  
  


Annie shoved backward to her feet. "What?"

  
  


Tears were streaming from Cassie's eyes. "They were waiting for you. They want you, for some reason--somehow they knew--you have to go--"

  
  


Annie didn't even wait for her to finish. "Luke, it's a trap!" she screamed, scrambling backward.

  
  


The Jedi was at her side in a heartbeat. "Get all the prisoners free," he said through gritted teeth. "We have to get out of here, now!"

  
  


Instead, the lights went out.

  
  


"Oh, hell," Annie said distinctly into the silence.

  
  


Luke didn't give her time to ponder the extreme unfairness of life. Giving her a shove, he ripped off his encumbering cape and engaged his lightsaber all in one fluid motion. "Free them!" he repeated. When Annie, shocked, didn't moved, he snapped, "Now!"

  
  


Regaining her senses, Annie flew down the dark hall as, behind her, a dazzling aurora borealis of red and green shots suddenly came hailing through the ebony blankness, somehow all stopped by the single thin blade of blue light the Jedi wielded. Drawing her blaster unsteadily, she aimed it for the lock and fired. Absurdly, this did the trick, and the door slid open. Not bothering to go in, she rushed to the next door and did the same, and continued until everyone in the holding area was free.

  
  


Glancing at Luke, she realized he was hard-pressed, his fighting skills limited by such close quarters. They didn't have much time left. Cursing under her breath, she skidded back to the cell where Cassie still lay in a semi-conscious stupor.

  
  


Throwing an arm around her, Annie hauled her friend to her feet, ignoring the other woman's soft moan of pain. "Come on, Cassie," she said, her voice trembling with mixed rage and tears, "we're gonna get you out of here, I promise. Essra!"

  
  


Her lizardlike comrade appeared instantly, and they shared a brief look of love and understanding. Then, Annie passed Cassie to Essra and turned to head to Luke. Before she could go, however, Cassie caught her arm, and Annie turned back, startled.

  
  


Cassie's eyes were clouded with fever, her skin burning hot to the touch, and her lips puffy and swollen, but somehow the words that emerged from them were surprisingly clear. "You came back. I still can't believe you came back for us."

  
  


"Of course I came back," Annie reassured her, almost hurt. "How could you think I would--?"

  
  


Cassie reached out and put a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I never really understood who you are or where you came from," she whispered, "but I see now that it doesn't matter. I . . . I don't think we'll ever meet again, sweetie, but even still . . . I'll never forget you, ever."

  
  


Annie stared at her, stricken, thinking her friend was saying she was about to die. "Cassie . . ."

  
  


Luke's sudden shout, however, snapped her back into the presence. Swallowing her sorrow and confusion, she gripped Cassie's hand for a brief moment, then nodded to Essra. With one last sad smile, she disappeared into the smoke and confusion, carrying Cassie with them.

  
  


Annie slammed a door closed on yet another part of her heart as she turned and headed back to the Jedi's side. "Luke!" she cried, clamoring to be heard above the din. "They're all gone! What--?"

  
  


And, just like that, the firing stopped.

  
  


Luke froze, for a moment seemingly unable to grasp the sudden cessation of violence, then slowly lowered his lightsaber, his expression one of utmost wariness. Annie, in an exact opposite move, raised her blaster, staring into the shadows.

  
  


"Hold your attack!" a voice called out. "We wish to parley with you, Jedi."

  
  


Luke narrowed his pale blue eyes. "Parley? We will not and have no need to surrender, or make any concessions. What do you have to offer us?"

  
  


A deep, rolling chuckle emerged from the darkness and smoke, a sound like flesh raked over coals, and it left a taste of wet ash in both Luke and Annie's mouths. "Your lives," a man's voice said calmly, in that same sickening flavor as the laugh. "Well, one of your lives, at least."

  
  


Annie's hand, still aiming her gun into the shadows, began to shake, and she felt sweat began to pearl on her forehead. She had thought she'd been afraid before, when she knew she was returning to face terrible odds and possibly her own death. That emotion paled in the face of what she now felt. This was more than fear; it was the awareness of perfect and insatiable evil.

  
  


A figure stepped forward from the mist, unassuming in physical appearance, and yet somehow all the more terrible for it. He was a slight man, seemingly human in form, with graying hair and fading blue eyes and a wretched, lascivious smile that he directed wholly on Annie.

  
  


She shuddered, and backed away unwillingly. Even as she did, Luke placed himself between her and the newcomer, lightsaber raised threateningly. "Who are you?" he asked coolly, no hint of fear detectable in his voice. With a little bit of a shock, Annie felt some of her own unreasoning terror lessen. She was in the company of the greatest Jedi to ever live, and he was unafraid; surely that would count for something.

  
  


"No one in particular," the little old man answered, shrugging easily. "Especially not to you, Jedi. Who I am is no concern of yours."

  
  


"If you want something to do with Annie, it most certainly is my concern," Luke returned somewhat harshly. "She is under my protection, and I won't allow anything to happen to her."

  
  


The little man sighed, and reached up to massage his temples wearily. "There's no need to make things difficult. If you let me have the girl, you're free to go."

  
  


Luke snorted. "As if the Empire would actually let me go," he said, a hint of arrogance unbecoming a Jedi apparent in his voice.

  
  


The little old man gave the most unpleasant, amused little smile Annie had ever seen, hunching his thin shoulders as though repressing laughter. "And who said this had anything to do with the Empire? I command these troops. I staged this attack. I want the girl. Capisce, my mend-bending friend?"

  
  


To this, Luke had no answer; but, as she listened, a cold shiver frissoned down Annie's spine, like a gut-deep instinct warning her away or some barely perceived voice saying it had warned her. It was not a pleasant sensation.

  
  


The little old man still hadn't finished talking. "She won't survive what we have to do to her, it's true," he conceded. "But what concern is that of yours? You barely know the girl, and she's hardly important in the grand scheme of things--to you, anyway. She happens to be very important to me. Just hand her over, and you're free to continue to play your prophetic role in this happy scenario. All you have to do is give me the girl."

  
  


As he spoke, the old man's voice deepened, softened, taking on the texture of smooth, sweet honey or clouding wine. Even Annie could feel herself being soothed and lulled by it; it was odd, she thought almost bemusedly, that Luke hadn't already handed her over.

  
  


Then the Jedi spoke, and his words seemed to cut through some sort of psychological barrier that had been drawn over Annie's mind. "Never."

  
  


The little man was no longer soft and soothing; now he looked pissed. "Why must you be so difficult? Really, I don't even know why you bother. You're out of your ken, Jedi; far out of your ken."

  
  


As he spoke, his voice grew deeper, more gravelly, taking on a different accent. Then, in the space of a heartbeat, he changed--and instead of a little old man, he was a dark-skinned, towering man with eyes like blazes and fire in his hands, and he filled the room like a thundercloud descended from the heavens.

  
  


Luke, for one, seemed to be struck dumb by a feat reckoned magical even to a Jedi, and had no words. Annie, however, was strangely unfazed by this little trick. She'd sensed the potential for this in her initial fear of him, so the actual act didn't do much to add to it.

  
  


Ignoring Luke now, the hellish vision turned its black, soulless gaze to Annie, who shrank away from it helplessly. "This girl, on the other hand," it purred, "this girl understands me, I think. She knows this is the bargain that must be made."

  
  


Swallowing, Annie managed to find her voice. "But I don't--"

  
  


It cut her off with a single statement. "I know what you are."

  
  


Annie froze, completely and totally petrified by horror.

  
  


Still grinning, it continued to move forward, horribly slowly, like some twisted nightmare made real. "Did you really think you wouldn't get caught?" he asked, laughter rumbling through his body. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you, in the end? You've had your fun; you've romped in this world long enough. It's time for me to call in the debts, girl, and you've racked up quite the bill."

  
  


Annie was shaking all over now, not fully aware of what he was talking about but terrified nonetheless. Somehow, she managed to find her voice. "Really, I don't know what you're talking about," she said desperately, wishing she could turn and run but instead unable to budge. "I'm just . . . I was a singer in a local cantina . . ."

  
  


The man snarled at her. "Don't lie to me, girl," he sneered, stalking closer. "I know where you come from, how you got here, what you intend to do. Don't think I don't. And I'm gonna stop you. You knew I would. The four of you should have known you'd never get away with this . . ."

  
  


Annie's voice shook with sincerity. "I swear to you, I have no idea what--"

  
  


In a single stride, he crossed the room, breezing past Luke and all the others to stand right next to her. "Enough games," he hissed, breath rancid in her face. As he spoke, he reached out a drew forth the necklace that had lain hidden under Annie's shirt as she stared at him in mixed terror and bewilderment. "It's time I did what I came for." With a single, swift motion, he yanked, and the chain on the necklace snapped in his hand.

  
  


Luke yelled, the man laughed, and the room swirled with movement again, but Annie heard none of. All she was aware of was a sudden sensation of dizziness, almost separateness, like she was looking down on her own body from far above and there was nothing to hear but her own gasping breaths . . .

  
  


Then everything disappeared, reality swirling away into a screaming black nothingness that seemed the shoot acid through Annie's veins and split her skull with noise. She was screaming and screaming, but all she could hear, could feel, was hell and darkness . . . until there was nothing.


	10. Revelations and Fishiness

AN: Just want to give a shout of thanks to everyone reading this fanfiction--I couldn't do it without your support or patience. As always, I apologize for the delay, but at least it wasn't as long as it was before my last update ;) By this point you've probably figured out I'm not the most regular at updating, and hopefully you're reading this story for something else. So, again, thanks for reading, and if you're here, gimme a shout: I love reviews (just don't flame me, please. I've no need to be extra crispy). And without further ado . . . chapter ten.

  
  


BTW: The first cameo appearance is up in this chapter. See if you can spot it (it's not rocket science). Adieu!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It is a point that must be conceded that some households in the world suffer from a distinct lack of personality. This may or may not be a good thing; some people would find it wholly uncomfortable living in a house that possesses an atmosphere as personable as some of its inhabitants. Most, however, quite happily--or ignorantly, as the case may be--reside in a home that has an aura all its own--a motto, if you will, a single phrase that it embodies and expounds upon . . . sometimes to the extreme.

  
  


The motto of the apartment which had formerly housed only two regular, unassuming, and possibly even boring Jedi?

  
  


Never a dull day.

  
  


It was its inhabitants, mostly, that rendered any hopes of normalcy unattainable. There were the two, now not-so-regular, Jedi who had always lived there; the decidedly unique girl who had recently become their ward; the rather large telekinetic fish who was quickly establishing himself as head of the house; the gigantic predatory feline that doted on the first girl; and now another young woman with enough personality for the lot of them.

  
  


It was fortunate that, in this apartment, there were three rooms, for this kept the sleeping arrangements managable. Obi and Qui continued to sleep in their own rooms, while Danielle and Krista shared the guest room quite comfortably. Sweetums made himself at home on the large couch in the main room, and Gumbi . . . well, no one wanted to think too hard about where Gumbi spent his nights.

  
  


The first morning after Krista arrived, Danielle rose early, as was her wont, to fix breakfast for the household's inhabitants. On her way to the shower, she was intercepted by Sweetums, who wanted to play now that Danielle was awake. She diverted him by discovering Gumbi in the corner and siccing the giant feline on the unsuspecting fish, then hastily went about her morning ablutions. She headed out just as Obi-Wan was headed in, still yawning widely, and made her way back through the living room, where Gumbi was now levitating Sweetums a full five feet in the air and grinning as the giant cat thrashed and meowed menacingly. Ignoring a sight that was--surprisingly--a common one, she headed back into her bedroom, shook a mumbling Krista awake, rapped sharply on Qui-Gon's door, then headed back for the kitchen.

  
  


In the kitchen, she had just gotten the sort of Instant Pancakes that were a household favorite on the griddle went Obi-Wan popped in to join her, hair still wet from his shower. Together, they set the table, a fascinating practice of coordination and Jedi skills, since Obi-Wan deftly levitated all the settings and condiments into position while Danielle, focusing extremely hard, used her mind to flip the pancakes. When Gumbi floated in, apparently done tormenting Sweetums, they deftly shooed him out of their way by creating a Force-barrier, then greeted a blurry-eyed Qui-Gon who popped his head in and asked how long coffee would be. Oblivious to the fact that he was six inches above the ground (compliments of Gumbi), he plodded his way off to the shower as Danielle got the coffee started bubbling and Obi-Wan went out onto the balcony to do his morning meditation.

  
  


Coffee boiling and pancakes cooling on the counter, Danielle headed back into the bedroom, attempted yet again to wake Krista, then backed Sweetums into a corner and gave him a thorough brushing, a process that would have been both impossible and eternal had he not been such a willing participant. Grooming complete, she set out an entire small mammal and a huge jug of water for his breakfast, then returned to the kitchen in time to pour three cups of coffee and hand one to the barely-alive Qui-Gon who slumped into his usual chair at the table. Taking the other two cups with her, she gave Krista a cheering salutation as she passed her on her way to the bathroom, then headed out onto the balcony to join Obi-Wan for a few minutes of his meditation. When this was completed, they stood together and enjoyed their coffee as they stared at the beautiful view out over the Temple Gardens.

  
  


After a few minutes, they strolled back in together and served breakfast to the finally-awake Qui-Gon and themselves, leaving a plate set for Krista whenever she should choose to arrive. As they ate, casually discussing yesterday's occurrences, the holophone buzzed, indicating an incoming call. Obi-Wan immediately hopped up and bounded over to it, only to have the beaming image of Sache appear on the screen, bidding them good morning. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she asked if it would be alright for the Queen and the other Handmaidens to come over for lunch to discuss the upcoming trial and get better acquainted. Obi-Wan agreed, and a time and location were set for later in the day, then they broke the connection.

  
  


He sat back down at the table at around the same moment Krista stumbled in, looking appalled that anyone should have to be up at such an ungodly hour (9:00). Seating herself at the table, she slurped lethargically at her juice and listened to the others' discussion, perking up only when the lunch date with the Nubians was mentioned. After that, she was recovered enough to eat her breakfast and send a few cheerful innuendoes at Qui-Gon, who remained happily oblivious as to why Obi-Wan and Danielle were acting so oddly. Deciding to escape the table before things got out of hand, he excused himself and headed off to confer with Master Yoda over some issue relating to Obi's latest mission.

  
  


After he was gone, conversation relaxed a little, and Krista eagerly volunteered to shadow Danielle for most of the day and learn what life in the Jedi Temple was typically like. Danielle was decidedly less enthusiastic about this plan, but when Obi-Wan said he had to spend the day debriefing on his latest mission and then teaching the younger classes fencing, she realized Krista would have nowhere else to go, and somewhat reluctantly agreed.

  
  


The first stop after breakfast was the library, where Danielle introduced Krista to the librarian, an intimidating woman named Jocasta Nu with whom Danielle apparently got on very well. She picked up the next installment in the series she'd been reading, entitled The Room of Mysteries, explained about the recent snafu with the Gerogonian prince, and gossiped about the events of the household. In the interim, Krista discovered a novel disturbingly similar to one she herself had begun writing a few years past, logged onto one of the computers and hacked a picture of a smiley face onto the screen, and nearly toppled one of the imposing busts of the Lost Jedi off its pedestal. When she returned to Danielle, a little shamefaced for her near accident, her friend was ready to leave and they departed for a shop outside the temple to buy some food for Sweetums.

  
  


Krista was delighted with the little shopping area nearby. When she discovered the Star Wars equivalent of a record store, she was so overwhelmed she hugged the owner. Danielle left her there to happily indulge herself in copious music crystal purchasing while she went next door and ordered to have several shipments of ground meat delivered to the apartment. When she met up with her friend again, Krista was toting a hefty sack of her purchases and wearing an insanely large grin. Unable to do more than shake her head, Danielle joined her and they walked out together.

  
  


"So, now that we have some alone time," Danielle said casually, "I think we ought to do a little catching up."

  
  


"Sounds like a plan," Krista said happily, still ecstatic from her shopping binge.

  
  


"How long have you been here?" Danielle asked softly.

  
  


"Here? A day, duh."

  
  


Danielle rolled her eyes. "Not on Coruscant. In . . . Star Wars," she said, sotto voce.

  
  


Krista narrowed her eyes, doing some deep thinking. It looked like extraordinarily hard work. "Er . . . just shy of two months, I think."

  
  


Danielle stared at her. "Really?"

  
  


"Uh, yeah. Really. Why?" Krista looked at her curiously.

  
  


"I've been here almost four."

  
  


Krista stopped dead in her tracks. "Wait. You've been here that much longer than me?"

  
  


Danielle nodded. "I guess so."

  
  


"But what does that mean?"

  
  


"I don't know." Danielle looked around them, shaking her head. "It . . . it feels so much like home, Krista. I just don't know . . . I'm starting to feel like I belong here."

  
  


"No kidding," Krista agreed, a little less creeped out by the notion. "You can guess how weird it is for me, with everything thinking they know me from before. Sometimes I feel like I'm remembering things that I didn't even do--things from before when I actually showed up." She looked at Danielle with interest. "How did you explain yourself, anyway? And how did you get here?"

  
  


"Apparently I was found unconscious in the street. Typical, right? I just told them I had amnesia, same as you."

  
  


"And they bought it, in both our cases." Krista rolled her eyes. "Apparently some people even found that attractive."

  
  


"Yeah, about your admirer," Danielle said thoughtfully. "When is his trial, anyway?"

  
  


"Right now it's set for a couple of weeks from now, but the handmaidens are coming over to discuss it with us at lunch today. Amidala, being a Queen and all, can get a really good prosecutor, but so can the Gerogonians. She's popular with the Senate, though--she thinks we have a really good chance of putting his ass in jail for a loooong time."

  
  


"Good riddance," Danielle said sharply. "Jail is exactly where he belongs."

  
  


There was a little silence. Neither of them seemed to know what to say next. Then, finally, Krista asked softly, "Do you know why we're here?"

  
  


Danielle couldn't resist. Giving her famous smile, she said, "So, since you've given up on Christianity, you've decided to try existentialism? That's a new one for you."

  
  


Krista snorted and smacked Danielle lightly on the arm. "Don't be stupid. I meant, why are we here, in Star Wars?"

  
  


Danielle sobered. "I dunno. I wish I did, though. I really do. In fact, I think we should be--"

  
  


She was cut off, unexpectedly, as a young man who had been walking alongside them abruptly lowered his head, bumped it into Danielle's shoulder, and gave a loud, "Be-GOK!" rather resembling the noise a chicken makes, before darting off into the crowd.

  
  


The two girls stood for a moment, silent. "That was odd," Danielle said at last.

  
  


Krista frowned. "That looked . . . kinda like Laura's brother, didn't it?"

  
  


There was another silence. Then, in unison, both girls said, "Nah," and headed back for the temple.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Back in the Temple, they stopped again at the apartment before Danielle said it was time for her to visit the creche. She offered to let Krista join her, but the other girl declined, claiming she'd rather have a little alone-time to get acquainted with her new music. With a precautionary warning ("don't break anything vital, don't hit on any Jedi, and don't piss off the fish"), Danielle departed for the creche, leaving Krista to her own devices.

  
  


It wasn't long at all before Krista grew a little bored. The apartment was certainly interesting enough to look at--the floating particle sculpture sparkled serenely in the morning sun and the chenille rug was wonderfully soft under her toes--but there was very little to actually do. When she grew weary of her music, she settled herself at the terminal and messed around with the Star Wars version of the internet for a while, but quickly grew bored again. It wasn't long before she decided that she really needed some sort of daytime hobby. Tomorrow, she'd go with Danielle to the creche, and see what else there was to do around here. In the meantime, however, she still had two hours before the handmaidens came over for lunch.

  
  


But what to do in the meantime?

  
  


Deciding she might as well explore the apartment, she set off on a little prowl, grinning every time she discovered some insane decoration that reminded her intensely of Danielle, and thinking how incredibly interesting it would be to live here. However, when she reached her and Danielle's bedroom, she stopped short--then began to grin hugely. In the middle of the bed, sound asleep, lay Sweetums, purring lightly.

  
  


It is also a very well-known fact that there are two types of people in the world: cat people, and non-cat people. Krista, unfortunately, was one of the latter--but, for reasons that may have stemmed from any number of things including insanity, mental retardation or criminal stupidity, she had a strange and undeniable fascination with felines. She simply loved to torment them. And Sweetums, no matter how large and prickly he may be, was still a cat in her book. Thus, torment was in order.

  
  


With a huge grin, she headed into the room and closed the door behind her.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Danielle was halfway down the hall, on her way to the apartment, when she heard the shrieking. Realizing it was coming from her own apartment, she burst into a sprint, praying to God nothing horrible had happened.

  
  


She kicked the door open with little preamble and shot into the apartment, in complete battle-alert mode. At the total chaos that met her eyes, however, she stopped, dumbstruck.

The apartment looked like a tornado had gone through it. Nothing seemed to be broken, but furniture, blankets, and even kitchen utensils were strewn haphazardly all over the floor. To the left of her, a barbecue fork appeared to be stuck in the wall. As she walked further in, shocked into silence, she realized the damage grew worse as she approached the balcony. When she grew near enough to see beyond it, however, her first reaction was rage--then, unexpectedly, she began laughing so hard she had to sit down.

  
  


Out on the balcony, growling up a storm, was Sweetums, every hair bristling and the occasional angry yip sneaking out. Near to him floated Gumbi, looking about as aggravated as it was possible for a fish to look. Krista, in contrast, was hovering in thin air several feet away from the rail of the balcony, making desperate and wholly ineffectual swimming motions. Instead of trying to return to the balcony, though, she was headed away from it--unsurprising, really, considering that Sweetums had perched himself on the rail and was stretched out as far as it was physically possible for him to go, desperately trying to reach Krista.

  
  


When Danielle started laughing, Krista's head whipped around, startled, and her eyes latched onto her friend. For a moment she hung there, looking shamefaced--then she had the cheek to grin and shrug, a strange expression coming from someone levitating several dozen meters above the ground. "Hey, Danielle. How was your day?"

  
  
  
  
  
  


Danielle was sitting in bed later that night, awake, when she heard the soft voice from the other side of the room. "Danielle?"

  
  


She glanced over and through the moonlight could make out her friend, stretched out amidst a pile of cushions on the floor, looking at her quizzically. "You awake?"

  
  


"Yeah," she whispered back, patting the bed beside her. Krista, still clutching one of her blankets to her, scrambled up to join her on the bed, and together they sat quietly.

  
  


"What a first day," Danielle said lightly, her voice somewhere between amused and disapproving.

  
  


Krista scowled at her. "And what did you do on your first day here? Sure as hell didn't accept it like it happens everyday, I bet."

  
  


Danielle blinked. "I--" laughed hysterically until I passed out. "I certainly didn't get in as much trouble as you did."

  
  


"Well, it wasn't my fault. Your stupid frickin' fish got a vendetta against me after I tossed him at Sweetums. That thing has it in for me, Danielle. What if it really decides to kill me?"

  
  


"Survival of the fittest," Danielle shrugged, apparently unconcerned.

  
  


Krista huffed. "Well, it's not like you've done better than me at fitting in. I 'recovered my memories' within a few days, and started blending right in with the other handmaidens at the palace." When Danielle giggled helplessly, Krista narrowed her eyes. "What?"

  
  


"Just . . . the phrase 'the other handmaidens' was a little too much to handle just now," she explained, still grinning broadly. "Well, my first few days here I was pretty much wondering how I got here, and how I'd get home--" Abruptly, she stopped mid-sentence, growing rigid as she sat. Krista, beside her, did the same.

  
  


After some time, Krista broke the eerie silence. "Danielle," she whispered, "how long has it been since you thought about home? I mean, real home--Earth."

  
  


Danielle didn't answer at first. "A long time."

  
  


Krista started getting little weird shivery sensations all over her. "Okay, something isn't right here. Why haven't we been trying harder to get home? And how did we get here, anyway?"

  
  


Danielle shook her head, a heavy, headachey sensation starting to creep into her skull. "I--I don't know. I'm not sure, at least. At first I was trying so hard not to make them think I'm crazy that I couldn't focus on anything else, but now . . . Even when you showed up I didn't . . ."

  
  


"Something is definitely not right here," Krista repeated, another wave of premonition washing over her. "Something . . . it's like something is keeping us from thinking about that stuff."

  
  


"And if we're here . . ." Danielle's voice trailed off, and her brow furrowed in thought. "Wait a minute. What was I about to say?"

  
  


Krista racked her brain, feeling as though she was coming up against some sort of mental wall. "Something about 'if we're here'."

  
  


"Oh, yeah." Suddenly, concentrating was very hard, and Danielle wanted nothing more than to fall asleep or talk about anything else but this. "If . . . we're here," she said, very slowly and deliberately, "then . . . where are . . ."

  
  


She was cut off by a distant, but unmistakable, scream.

  
  


Both girls froze. "Did you hear that?" Krista asked at last, voice shaking.

  
  


"A scream?"

  
  


"Okay, you heard it. But what was it?"

  
  


They waited a moment, shaking a little, until they heard another sound. "Help! Help! Someone--please!"

  
  


They waited a moment before speaking. "What do you think it is?" Danielle asked, voice shaking.

"Sounds an awful lot like someone screaming," Krista replied, equally unsettled. "But . . . there's got to be some reason for it. Nothing that bad can be happening. I mean, we are in the Jedi Temple. Someone else would hear it . . . someone would stop it." When Danielle didn't answer, she pressed, "Right?"

  
  


Then the voice screamed again. "Oh, Force, please help me, please," and it trailed off into sobs.

  
  


Neither girl spoke again. They flew from the bed in a flurry of motion, scrabbling for shoes and Danielle grabbing the handgun in the nightstand, then flew out of their room and then out of the apartment without a backward glance.

  
  


Strangely enough, in the hall they could hear the sobs even still, complete with muffled screams. Exchanging a horrified glance, the two girls took off down the silent corridors, half-expecting with every step to be told that this was some kind of joke or to go back to their beds.

  
  


The path to the noise seemed to be painfully clear, but no matter how quickly they ran toward it, they never seemed to get any closer. Their progress was nightmarish, their feet almost seeming to be mired in mud and the screaming never ceasing, not even for a moment.

  
  


After several minutes Krista threw herself to a stop and grabbed Danielle's arm, stopping her as well. They were into a more deserted section of the temple now, halls upon halls of isolation cells where Masters could find peace from Temple stresses and the walls ate up sound. "This is ridiculous!" she spat. "We must be . . . hallucinating or something! This isn't real!"

  
  


Danielle opened her mouth . . . and the girl screamed again. This time, however, it echoed through the hallway and in their ears, and there was something different about it, more tangible than it had been before.

  
  


The two girls locked eyes, and realized in that moment that they hadn't been able to actually hear her before. All the screaming up until now had been completely in their minds.

  
  


Exchanging one last horrified glance, they took off again toward the screams.

  
  


This time they rounded only two corners before they came upon their target. In the dimness, they could barely make out a young girl, one of Danielle's friends from the creche, cringing against the wall in terror, her clothing torn and a dark bruise blooming on one cheek. And, in the shadows, the looming form of another figure over her, darker, reaching toward her in obvious menace.

  
  


For a moment neither girl spoke; they couldn't even draw breath to breathe, so great was their horror and so thick the sense of unreality. It was as though the glittering atmosphere of the Temple, formerly so pristine and cheerful, had been thrown into sudden and terrible sharpness, revealed as a place with nightmares as well as dreams . . . just like any other.

  
  


And the little girl--for she was no more than eight--was one of the children who still visited the creche occasionally, soon to be apprenticed to a Master and continue in her training. It was a girl Danielle saw and played with every day, a girl who was infinitely precious to her.

  
  


Instantly, and without warning, the unreality and dreamlike helplessness drained out of her, and she was filled with rage like nothing she'd ever known she could feel.

  
  


"Hey!" Danielle screamed, throwing herself to a stop and leveling her gun to point it at the man. Her hands shook, but it was with hatred instead of fear, and she had no doubt about her aim.

  
  


The man's head jerked up, startled; he had somehow failed to notice their approach. When he took them in, however, his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. "More Jedi," he hissed, eyes flat and teeth gritted in hatred. "Just like this little brat. I'll make you pay for this! You bitches won't rule the galaxy forever--we'll send you to hell where you all belong . . . starting with this little witch." And, as Danielle and Krista watched in horror, he raised his gun and leveled it at the young girl in front of him.

  
  


Danielle's mind went white.

  
  


The next thing she knew, she was staggering backward, her whole body aching and her ears ringing, and Krista was grabbing her to steady her. She looked up, and realized in total astonishment that the man was collapsed on the floor, unconscious, a trickle of blood running from each ear. She'd dropped the gun at some point to extend her hands before her . . . and they were crackling with white-gold sparks that she could barely feel pricking her skin. The young girl, unharmed, rose slowly to her feet, a look of awe and disbelief on her face, and she finally realized that Krista was saying, over and over, "Oh my god, Danielle, what did you do?"

  
  


But she couldn't answer, because at that moment she fainted dead away.

  
  
  
  
  
  


******************************************************************************

  
  
  
  
  
  


Annie awoke, unsurprisingly, to heat.

  
  


Now, when have I felt this before? she thought groggily, slowly returning to consciousness. As she lifted her head and looked around her, blinking, she realized she way laying in the sand in the middle of some deserted street, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon. Woozily, she staggered to her feet, trying to get her bearings as best she could.

  
  


As soon as her head cleared her memory returned, and she almost gasped aloud. Luke! That terrifying man who had claimed to want her for some dark purpose . . . She'd been in the Imperial base--where was she now? And how had she gotten here? The last thing she remembered was the confrontation--then the man grabbing her necklace . . .

  
  


Instinctively Annie reached up, and was startled to realize that it still hung around her neck, seemingly undamaged. For a moment she couldn't find anything strange about that, then she remembered--he'd snapped it, ripping it from her neck. That was when everything had gone dark, she recalled. And now . . .

  
  


She stared at it for untold minutes, trying to fathom just what was going on, before she shook her head ruefully and dropped the pendant. She could figure out that particular mystery later. Right now she needed to know where she was and how she'd gotten here. She needed to find Luke, and then see if Cassie and Essra were all right. Then, only then, would she let herself think about the mystery of her unharmed necklace and the terrifying man who'd claimed to know who she was.

  
  


Setting off across the sands with a purposeful stride, she headed for what looked to be the nearest reputable building. At this hour of the morning, she imagined very little was open, but she would settle with whatever she could find.

  
  


After some considerable searching, she finally settled on a nearby restaurant/bar that seemed to be accepting patrons. Stepping inside, she glanced around for any familiar faces and, finding none, seated herself at the bar and tried to look casual. When the bartender demanded her order, she smilingly asked for water, a request which earned her an incredulous snort and looks of contempt from all the other customers.

  
  


There was a holoscreen playing in the corner, and Annie half payed attention to it as she sipped her water, trying to think. All right. She didn't know what town she was in, let alone what part of it--and she was only assuming she was still on Tatooine. She really could be anywhere in the galaxy.

  
  


By eavesdropping on the conversation next to her, she managed to ascertain that she was indeed in Mos Eisley again. Home sweet home, she thought in mild amusement. The truth of this, however, unsettled her. If she was home, why had no one recognized her yet? More importantly, why hadn't she recognized anything? Everything around her seemed so . . . familiar, and yet different, like another version of the same town.

  
  


Perplexed, she was again lost in her thoughts, trying to formulate some coherent form of action, when the drone of the holoscreen distracted her from her inner conflict. Some smarmy alien reporter was reading the headlines in a bored monotone, but her ears couldn't help but prick up at a familiar name. " . . . continued disputes as to the Trade Federation's recent activity, especially concerning the shipping rights and prerogatives of smaller planets such as Corsica and Naboo . . ."

  
  


Annie frowned a little. Naboo? It was still around by this time in the galaxy? She'd always imagined that Vader must have destroyed it or something, for it to become so completely unimportant. How very odd. Another strange thought struck her. And . . . the Trade Federation? It hadn't been disbanded either? Curiouser and curiouser, her inner hypocrite supplied.

She zoned back in to the report, sensing somehow that what she was hearing was very important. " . . . appeals in the Senate as to the specifics of the treaties restricting trade corporations' control over independent planets. However, due to a recent increase in the dissatisfaction with the Chancellor and the Senate as a whole, the proceedings are continuing very slowly, and Valorum himself now holds little power to respond to the appeals . . ."

  
  


Annie stared, blankly, at the screen. Valorum. Chancellor Valorum. That couldn't be. He'd been given the Vote of No Happiness or whatever the heck that had been in the first movie . . . right? How was it possible that he was Chancellor again? And . . . she seemed to remember hearing, in A New Hope, that the Emperor had done away with the Senate entirely. There was no way they could have put it back together so quickly.

  
  


Annie leaned back in her seat, feeling a strange sense of unreality mixed with deja vu. Everything she'd heard so far led her to the same conclusion, and considering what had happened to her so far, it wasn't really that far-fetched. But . . . why?

  
  


Deciding she might as well be certain, she tapped the patron next to her on the shoulder and then smiled at him disarmingly when he scowled at her in response. "Excuse me . . . do you know when the next . . . uh . . . pod-race is being held?"

  
  


He eyed her warily, obviously surprised that such a clean and reputable looking young woman would be interested in such a sport. "Two weeks from tomorrow," he said slowly. "What's it to you?"

  
  


"Just curious." Pod-racing, eh? Annie knew for almost certain that the sport had been extinct in her time. But now for the ultimate clincher. "Is Jabba going to be hosting it again?"

  
  


The other man shook his head. "Nah. He's just going to be watching this one. Taking a bit of a break to actually enjoy the race for once, so I hear."

  
  


Well. That did it, then. She'd really gone back in time, because she knew for a fact that Jabba the Hutt had been killed only a few weeks after her arrival. If he was alive . . . there was no telling how far back in time she'd gone.

  
  


Inspiration struck her suddenly. "Er, you wouldn't happen to know if there's a human boy racing this time, would you? Name of Anakin Skywalker?"

  
  


The man glared at her. "Human? Humans can't pod race. They don't have the reflexes. Now lemme alone, girl." With another wicked look, he turned back to his drink.

  
  


Annie sat back, lost in thought. Well. That meant she had skipped right back to before the Phantom Menace, just as all the news on the holoscreen had seemed to be indicating. God help her. Not only was she in some nonexistent universe, she was hopping around in its timeline, too. What was up with that, anyway? Another horrible thought struck her. This was before her time, too. She was no longer rich or famous, and she once again didn't have a friend in the world. She was completely on her own.

  
  


Depressed by the turn her thoughts were taking, she firmly crushed them and tried to be proactive (one of the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, a little voice that sounded frighteningly like her Jr. High principal supplied). Deciding she might as well get to know the lay of the land a little better, she finished her water and headed out into the glaring morning sun. The city had begun to wake up a little, and more pedestrians crowded the street, striding purposefully toward some unknown destination or hawking their wares to unsuspecting travelers. Annie walked casually down the street, seeking anything that looked even vaguely familiar, wondering who in this galaxy she could trust.

  
  


Annie felt every bit as lost as she had when she had first woken up, unconscious, as a slave in the possession of some unsavory character. God, what did she do now? She wasn't even sure when she was, just that she was out of her time and thus out of her element. And Mos Eisley was hardly a good city to be alone and friendless and lost in. A horrible sense of unfairness rose up inside of her. Could things have gone any more wrong than they had? She'd woken up a slave and then immediately been determined insane. After that, she had become the target of Imperial stormtroopers and was forced to put herself in a very awkward situation to get away from them. She had done more things to simply survive her first hour than she had ever imagined she was capable of.

  
  


The thought gave her pause for a moment. It was true, she realized. This little sojourn into a freakish galaxy and her encounters with evil was truly giving her a chance to see how capable and adaptable she was. Because, despite it all, she was alive and kicking. Ha, she thought, a little cheered. Wait'll I tell the others about this. They'll never believe me in a million years, yeah, but so? Laura would probably say it would make a great story.

  
  


Turning aside from this cheerful but frivolous train of thoughts, she returned to her original lament. She'd achieved temporary stability and even happiness as singer, but that hadn't lasted very long at all before life had once again come and screwed her over royally. The Imperials had come calling, sending her fleeing in the night and leaving Cassie to an unknown fate. Then, when she was alone and friendless in the desert, who had to find her but the Sand People, the infamous moisture thieves.

  
  


True, that predicament had ended by being saved by none other than Obi-Wan himself and had also let her meet Luke, her all-time favorite Star Wars hero, but even that had been short-lived. In embarking to rescue her friends and confront the Imperials, they had walked into a trap and Annie had encountered a truly terrifying individual who claimed to know who she was and why she was here, and had had no trouble whatsoever getting past Luke. She wondered, almost idly, if he--no, IT--was the one who had sent her back in time. She wouldn't be at all surprised. That was just the way things had been going for her recently.

  
  


All in all, she summed up, scuffing at the sand with her boot, she didn't seem to be having the best of luck at living in another galaxy. It was almost as though this world were mocking her.

  
  


A thought occurred to her, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a hint of a smile. Could be worse, she thought ruefully. Could be--

  
  


Her head jerked up at an sudden booming thunderclap. No sooner had she taken this in than the entire sky darkened and, almost out of nowhere, the heavens opened on her and she found herself caught in the middle of a horrendous downpour.

  
  


For a moment Annie just stood there, dumbfounded. This was Tatooine--a frickin' DESERT planet. It NEVER rained here. EVER. Unless . . .

  
  


Not caring who was watching, she tipped her head back and shook a fist at the sky. "It's not fair! I hate this! I don't care who or what you are or what you think you're doing, but I swear this isn't over!" And, with a little huff of rage, she turned on a dime and dashed for the nearest open doorway.

  
  


Inside, she stopped just under the doorframe to push back the hood of her cloak and give herself a thorough, dog-like shake. Within mere instants the normal downpour had turned into what felt like buckets of water simply being dumped out from above, and already the packed sandy ground was beginning to show the effects of so much unexpected water. Soaked to the bone, she shivered a little at the sudden drastic change in temperature and blinked as her eyes adjusted.

  
  


She appeared to be in some third-rate mechanics shop--a la Watto's, she thought ruefully. Just as Cassie's bar had strongly resembled the one in A New Hope. At least whoever was the pulling the strings Up There could be a little more creative with their blueprints.

  
  


There were only two other patrons in the shop: a small, rodent-like being who scrabbled happily through a pile of some unidentifiable pieces of junk on the floor, and a young woman approximately her age who stood near the main counter, apparently waiting on someone. She glanced idly over at Annie as she came in and nodded coolly, and Annie, a little surprised, returned the gesture.

  
  


Deciding she might as well look around until the rain cleared up, since she sure as heck wasn't going anywhere, she browsed randomly through the room. She hadn't been in the galaxy long enough to recognize anything specifically, but she was fairly certain most of the items were sale were components for ships, speeders, or weapons. Jolly.

  
  


Her attention was diverted a minute later when the proprietor of the shop magically appeared behind the counter. He was a tall, humanoid alien with long tentacles instead of arms, and he shot Annie an indescribably smarmy smirk before turning back to the young woman at the counter. Annie eavesdropped, out of sheer boredom, and was surprised at what she overheard.

  
  


"Do you have it?" the young woman asked, a note of barely restrained hope in her voice.

  
  


The alien smiled at her again, displaying multiple rows of very pointy teeth. "That all depends. How much are you willing to give me for it?"

The woman barely restrained an expression of disgust. "Look, I'm not here to play games. Either you have it or you don't. There are plenty of other shops in this town. I can easily go to one of those."

  
  


"Not right now, you can't," the alien returned with a little laugh. "Not unless you fancy drowning in the open air, that is."

  
  


The woman's nostrils flared once, lightly, as she obviously restrained her anger. "I can wait."

  
  


The alien looked at her, and Annie noticed as he did the way her leg joggled impatiently, how her fingertips drummed the countertop incessantly. "Can you?" he asked cannily. "You seem to be in something of a . . . rush . . . to me."

  
  


She met him glare for glare. "That's none of your business. The only thing you should concern yourself with is whether or not you're willing to sell me that Equilibrilator."

  
  


"I don't know," the alien smirked. "Ask me again tomorrow, and I'll tell you then."

  
  


The woman gave a little hiss of anger. "Look, I'm not entirely certain why you are so set on aggravating me, but it accomplishes nothing. Wouldn't you rather have my business than my displeasure?"

  
  


The alien's smile instantly became unpleasant. "In case you haven't noticed, ma'am, we don't take very kindly to offworlders around here. I suggest you take your ship and buy your damn Equilibrilator somewhere else and get the hell off this planet."

  
  


She stepped back, obviously surprised, and Annie blinked. How could the man tell she was an offworlder? She had an accent, true, and her clothes were strange around here, but she herself was far stranger and had been immediately accepted into the fold. Then again, she reasoned, that had been many years in the future. Perhaps they were more used to foreigners by that time.

  
  


The woman retreated to the front of the store, by where Annie stood. She seemed so rattled that Annie couldn't help but comment to her. "Don't mind him," she said softly. "Not everyone around here is so down on offworlders. Any of the other dozen stores on this street will probably help you."

  
  


The young woman looked at Annie, obviously surprised, then smiled. "Thank you. It has begun to get a little . . . discouraging. And I lied; I am indeed in something of a hurry. I am supposed to be meeting . . . someone, with the Equilibrilator, and I am continually being delayed." She shook her head. "And this rain . . . it is unnatural."

  
  


Annie couldn't restrain a little snort. "That's one word for it, all right," she agreed quietly.

  
  


The woman gave her a strange look, obviously assessing Annie: a young woman about her own age, native dress, but a decidedly un-native accent, manner, and friendliness. Annie, likewise, observed her; she was a fairly striking young woman, her skin unusually pale for this planet, her hair falling in thick black waves past her shoulders, and her clothing falling in black ripples to her feet. She was, Annie had to admit, very obviously foreign.

  
  


"You aren't from around here either," she said abruptly, interrupting Annie's musings. When Annie looked at her, startled, she asked, "Are you?"

  
  


Annie thought about this a moment, then shrugged. "No."

  
  


"Where are you from?"

  
  


Annie gave a little smile. "Oh, all over the place, really."

  
  


The other girl gave her a strangely knowing look. "Yet you've been here a while."

  
  


Annie looked at her, surprised again. "You're pretty good at guessing things," she said slowly, but the woman merely grinned. "So they tell me."

  
  


Annie decided she could only shrug it off. "So what brings you to Tatooine?"

  
  


The woman's face closed a little. "Business," she said tersely.

  
  


From her expression Annie guessed it wouldn't be wise to pry further. "And how do you like it so far?"

  
  


The woman shrugged, but it was impossible to keep the contempt from her eyes. "It's . . . Uncivilized. Dirty. And very, very sandy. In fact--" Abruptly, she cut herself off with a shriek. "Oh, Mithros!"

  
  


At first Annie was alarmed. Then she realized the cause of the woman's alarm was a large sandy spider-like creature now crawling up her right leg. With the ease of long practice, Annie knocked it off onto the floor, scuffed sand into it to confuse it, then landed on it with a quick CRUNCH, smashing it into the sand. She stepped back, casually, and scraped the guck from the bottom of her boots on a rung placed near the door for that very purpose.

  
  


The other young woman was staring at her almost in awe. "You--what--?"

  
  


Annie was suddenly a little embarrassed. "It's just a sand-spider," she shrugged. "They're really common around here. You figure out how to deal with them very quickly."

  
  


The woman cocked her head a moment, studying Annie with renewed interest, then broke into a dazzling grin. "My savior," she beamed, a hint of laughter in her voice. "My knight in shining armor."

  
  


Annie was getting really embarrassed now. "Look, it's really nothing," she assured the other girl, flushing a little.

  
  


"Not to me. You'd think that after everything I've faced--" Seeing Annie's strange look, she cut herself off, then continued, "I actually have a paralyzing fear of spiders."

  
  


"Me too!" Annie exclaimed. "I mean, I did. I just got so used to those things that I don't even think about killing them any more."

  
  


The woman smiled, then extended a hand. "I'm Dru."

  
  


"Annie," she replied, clasping the offered hand cheerfully. "It's nice to meet you, Dru." She paused. "Is that your full name?"

  
  


"No, but there are very few people living who know my full name, and only because there was no human way to avoid it," Dru answered with a little grimace.

  
  


"So . . . you'll be leaving soon?" Annie asked, trying to make conversation.

  
  


"Yeah. As soon as I meet with my . . . friend, we're headed off this rock and back home."

  
  


"Where is home?"

  
  


"Coruscant," she replied, a little wary again. "Any reason why you want to know?"

  
  


She was certainly awfully suspicious, Annie thought. "No, no real reason. I was just curious. So, who is this friend of yours?"

  
  


Dru looked a little shifty again. "He's just . . . a friend. About our age, guy named Wes."

  
  


"Oh. Neat." From her expression, Annie could tell she really didn't want to talk about it anymore, so she was content to let it drop.

  
  


Dru seemed about to say something, but she was cut off as a door in the back slammed open, attracting everyone's attention. As Annie watched, dumbfounded, a group of thoroughly soaked but still quite intimidating thugs, all with a sort of insignia tattooed on their arms, spilled into the shop. "There they are!" one of the guards cried, pointing directly at Dru . . . and herself. "Get them!"

  
  


"Them?" Annie echoed in horror, and Dru looked at her in surprise. "No time for questions," she barked, grabbing Annie by the arm. "Run!"

  
  


The two girls took off into the street, Annie deciding that her challenge to the heavens had just been answered. When they crossed the threshold it was like stepping into a swimming pool; sandy water splashed around their ankles and the rain was pouring down so hard it was impossible to see more than 10 feet in front of them. With no dirt to sink into and no place to run off, the water was simply building, and would soon flood into any nearby establishments.

  
  


Annie gasped, having a little trouble breathing, but was jerked into action by Dru, who was still yanking her along like a fish on a wire. Tripping and stumbling, she tried vainly to keep up with the other girl, who she sensed would be moving like a flash if not burdened with Annie.

  
  


They shot across the street, splashing hugely as they went, and turned into an alley. It was a dead end, but this apparently posed no challenge to Dru; she vaulted right over the low wall at the other end like it was something she did daily. As Annie stared, flabbergasted, she reached down and dragged her over as well, just before their anonymous pursuers turned into the alley.

  
  


"Who are those people, and why are they chasing us?" Annie yelled above the boom of the thunder and the splashing their feet made as they ran.

  
  


"They're . . . ah . . . the reason I was trying to leave in such a hurry," Dru explained sheepishly. Annie groaned, wondering just what she'd gotten herself into this time. "Why do they want me?"

  
  


"Probably just 'cause you were talking to me," Dru yelled back. "They're getting awfully paranoid by this point."

  
  


Annie decided she'd just as well not know what Dru meant by that.

  
  


The mad goose chase took an unexpected twist when they turned another corner and stepped into what was obviously lower ground--thus plunging themselves into water that was waist-deep instead of merely ankle-deep.

  
  


Half running and half dogpaddling, the two girls tried to move as quickly as they could to elude their pursuers. Their antagonists, however, were quite persistent; when they spotted the two girls they didn't bother to go in the water after them. Instead, they merely stood at the edge and began taking shots at them, making the water around them begin to hiss and sputter with near misses. When one came so close Annie felt the heat of it on her cheek, Dru grabbed her hand and, without warning, dragged her under the water.

  
  


Annie closed her eyes against the grit of the water and struggled not to choke as Dru dragged her along with ruthless efficiency. She didn't know how long the underwater journey lasted; she only knew that by the time Dru let her surface, her lungs were screaming for air and she felt a little dizzy. She wasn't given time to recuperate, however; they blundered up a pair of underwater steps and onto ground where the water was only an inch deep and took off running again.

  
  


Dodging a few more spattering shots, Dru yanked them down another side street, some destination obviously in mind. For a moment Annie realized they'd left the pursuit behind, and she was filled with elation as she thought they might actually be in the clear . . . then there was a shout ahead of them, and Dru slammed them to a stop as another dozen armed guards spilled out of the opening ahead of them, cutting them off. She turned to go back the other way, but another mass of guards cut her off, leveling their blasters at the two girls menacingly.

And now, Annie thought dispassionately, my day is complete.

  
  


"Halt!" one of the guards called in a gravelly voice. "Stop or we shoot, fiends!"

  
  


"Fiends?" Annie said drily, almost beyond caring at this point.

  
  


Dru didn't answer her. She merely watched, glowering, as they were surrounded by the guards, all of whom were eyeing them extremely warily. "Put binders on 'em and ship 'em out," another ordered. "Ixian said he wanted 'em alive if possible. And BE CAREFUL; we've seen what they can do."

  
  


Annie considered demanding some sort of explanation, but thought better of it when she saw the expression on Dru's face. Nothing for it, then. She was going back into the clutches of yet another evil fiend. At this rate she might set a record.

  
  


Before the guard bearing the shackles could reach them, however, Dru suddenly sprang back a pace, startling everyone. Tipping her head back and cupping her hands to her mouth, she cried clearly above the noise of the storm, "WES!"

  
  


For a moment there was no response, and Annie was afraid her friend was slightly insane. Then, out of nowhere, there was a loud noise, and they all looked up in shock. There, on a nearby rooftop, stood a shadowed figure, dressed in a billowing cloak and silhouetted against the distant lighting. He shouted something incoherent back, reached into his robe, and tossed something at Dru. It appeared to be small, and faintly cylindrical, and Annie wondered how he possibly thought it could reach her through the storm. Dru, however, merely raised her hand, and, almost miraculously, the cylinder fell into it.

  
  


Annie barely had time to register what had happened before Dru gently shoved her out of harm's way and fell into a habitual crouch. Even as the other figure--Wes, Annie assumed-- somersaulted off the roof and into the midst of the stunned guards, she depressed a button on the cylinder . . . and with a marvelously familiar snap-hiss, a shimmering violet blade sprang into life. At her side, Wes, still cloaked, did the same, and the light of his blue lightsaber cut through the rain.

  
  


Jedi, Annie realized, stunned, as she stared up at them from the watery floor. Dru was a *Jedi*, and obviously the mysterious Wes was as well. Well, no wonder everyone was after her.

  
  


Then, she didn't have time to think anymore, because several things happened at once; Wes pressed a blaster into her unwilling hand, the guards recovered from their shock and all started firing at once, and Dru and Wes went spinning into motion like two avenging angels.

  
  


From there on out, everything was chaos.

  
  


But then, when hadn't it been?


	11. Drumroll, please!

A/N: As always, thank you to anyone who's reading this for your patience and the occasional review you bless me with--manna in the wilderness, friends. I've got a much better idea of what will happen over the next few chapters, so I should be able to crank them out a little more quickly . . . as long as I know there are people out there who care (ahem *cough* REVIEW *cough*).

  
  


P.S. Apologies to anyone who couldn't spot the cameo last chapter--I guess it wasn't as obvious as I'd thought. It was a nod to 'Laura's brother', the guy that bugged Krista and Danielle while they were out shopping. Just FYI. More cameos are coming, but not in this chapter (sorry).

  
  


Without further ado . . .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


ELEVEN

  
  
  
  
  
  


It had been a very, very long day.

  
  


For some amount of time, things had been moving too quickly for Danielle to comprehend at all, so she'd chosen to sit in the corner and just *be*. Clutching a mug of hot coffee in her hands, she sat curled up in a nice comfy chair, watched people flit by through heavy-lidded eyes, and thought about sheep.

  
  


Her topic of pondering was not nearly so random as one might be led to think. She'd originally chosen this exceptionally comfy chair with the intention of sleeping; then, when sleep had been impossible to achieve, she'd reverted to the classics: namely, counting sheep. It not only didn't work, it was a highly disturbing thing to be thinking about: an endless line of fluffy white sheep, soaring over a nice fence, flying almost, and several of them were smiling . . . This, of course, got her thinking about Giles. Giles had been her sheep back at home, an adorable stuffed animal she'd received for a birthday president and was now helping campaign for a cabinet position. She wondered what Giles was doing, if her cat had eaten him yet, if he missed her. It was a strangely depressing topic.

  
  


"Danielle?"

  
  


She looked up, surprised, at the sound of the hesitant voice. Krista stood there, looking uncomfortable and more than a little frazzled. "You all right?"

  
  


Danielle shifted in her chair and let out a little sigh. "Define 'all right'."

  
  


Krista sat down next to her, looking very much like she wanted to hug her. "I . . . I'm sorry I didn't stop by sooner. First I was with those Spanish Inquisition goons who asked me a million questions in fifty different languages, and then barely changed the sentence structure and asked 'em all again. Then I talked to Amidala and the handmaidens, who were pretty confused and alarmed about the whole deal. I had a helluva time convincing Rabe she wasn't going to be ravished in her sleep." She snorted gently, then sobered. "Not that it hasn't been a really bad experience for everybody involved," she conceded, casting a wary glance at Danielle.

  
  


She just clutched the mug a little tighter in her hands and thought harder about sheep.

  
  


"Danielle . . . are you feeling up to any explanations yet?"

  
  


"I told you," Danielle's voice cracked a little, "I don't know. I don't know anything. I just . . . I don't even remember what happened. It's all blank, don't you believe me?"

  
  


"I do." Krista's voice was unwontedly soothing. "I really do, Danielle, it's okay. It's just . . . all the Jedi are really freaked, even Obi and Qui. You . . . you shouldn't have been able to do that, you know. It's way advanced . . . I don't even know if any of *them* know how to do it. Danielle . . . it might not even *be* a Jedi thing."

  
  


Danielle looked up at her, the her dark hair falling around her face like a curtain and her eyes huge and somber. "Then what *is* it, Krista? That's what they all want to know. What if . . . what if *none* of it has been a 'Jedi thing'? What if it's all . . . God, I don't even know."

  
  


Krista looked at her sympathetically. "I understand, Danielle. I . . . I heard her too, remember? In my mind?"

  
  


"Yeah." Danielle looked at her intently. "Has . . . anything else . . . unusual been happening to you? Like, suddenly developing superpowers or something like that?"

  
  


Krista cracked a wicked grin. "What, apart from my normal ones?"

  
  


Danielle shot the patented Danielle-look-of-disapproval, usually reserved just for Krista. "I'm serious."

  
  


Krista shrugged, refusing to be repentant. "Except for being able to dance, and behave myself in public, and remember which fork is for what, and learning weapons, and . . ." Suddenly she stopped. "Frickin' a, you're right. Something *is* happening to me. I . . . I'm becoming a HANDMAIDEN!" With an overdramatic howl, she flung her hands over her face and began making huge, ridiculous sobbing noises.

  
  


Danielle swatted her furiously. "You--stop that! People are staring--*more* than normal!"

  
  


With a huge gulping sob, Krista subsided. "Geez, so serious! Come on, crack a smile for me. Please?" When Danielle unwillingly shot her a kind of forced grimace, Krista relented with a sigh. "Whatever, that'll do. No, I haven't gone all Krista Almighty or anything just yet. Apparently, as always, you're a special case."

  
  


The remark Danielle was about to make would have been rather pithy had the door next to them not opened, admitting a very solemn Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. They came and stood in front of the two girls, looking at them in worry.

  
  


Danielle couldn't bear the look of mistrust on their faces, when only yesterday they'd felt like family. Blinking back something that absolutely was not tears, she turned her head away, silent. In response, Obi-Wan crouched before her and wrapped his arms around her, catching her in a warm and comforting hug. Within only moments, she melted, relaxing in his embrace and even hugging him back a little, trying not to spill her coffee.

  
  


Krista, deciding to seize the moment, shot a pointed look at the hugging couple, then turned an absolutely diabolic grin on Qui-Gon. He merely stared at her, aghast, until Obi-Wan released Danielle and stepped back. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

  
  


Danielle smiled at him. "Yeah, I'm all right. Just . . . really weirded out."

  
  


Obi-Wan nodded, looking relieved. "Well . . . good." He and Qui-Gon exchanged looks, then the older Jedi said softly, "The Council dispatched us to question you."

  
  


"Again?" Krista said drily. "Oh, no, wait, of course. There's *bound* to be something new this time around."

  
  


Qui-Gon sighed. "Look, we know you've told us everything you know. We're just gonna run through these questions one more time, for formality's sake, and then we can *tell* them it's done. All right?"

  
  


"All right," Danielle said, a little irritably. "Fire away."

  
  


"You were awake, talking, when you heard a scream."

  
  


"What is this, Jeopardy? You're telling us the answers, and our responses must be in the form of a question?" Krista asked snidely.

  
  


Qui-Gon released a little huff of air. "Once again I'll pretend I understand that obscure reference and just move on. Here: What were you doing when you first heard the screaming?"

  
  


"Sitting awake and talking," Danielle said, loudly, before Krista could come up with something else to say.

  
  


"Then what did you do?"

  
  


This time Krista beat Danielle to it. "Well, first we waffled around for a few minutes, painted our toenails, talked about the weather--we went to *help*, duh!"

  
  


"How did you know where to go?"

  
  


Danielle and Krista exchanged glances. "We . . . uh . . . we followed the sound of the screaming. It was like a beacon or something," Danielle confessed.

  
  


"And it led you directly to the girl?"

  
  


"Well, we ran around for a long time, generally managed to fart around for about ten or fifteen minutes, and then we actually *heard* the screaming," Krista said, annoyed. "You know the drill."

  
  


Obi and Qui, however, were giving her very strange looks. "What?" she finally asked, uncomfortable.

  
  


"It took . . . ten or fifteen minutes, you said?"

  
  


Krista and Danielle exchanged another glance, then both nodded in concurrence.

  
  


"You hadn't mentioned that before," Obi-Wan said. "Well, yet another revelation."

  
  


"Why?" Krista asked, surprised. "Why's that so important?"

  
  


"According to the girl's story," Qui-Gon said gently, "by the time you arrived, the man had only been assaulting her for about two minutes. So the screaming that you 'heard' in your minds wasn't even happening by this point."

  
  


There was a little silence.

  
  


"And the fun just keeps on comin'," Danielle said drily.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Moonlight spilled like liquid silver across the bare surface of the floor, illuminating eerie figures of furniture and art, shimmering on the water in the fish-tank and glowing from the eyes of a levitating fish. Everything else was thrown into shadow, shaded an absolute ebony in the total absence of light.

  
  


As silently as she was capable, Danielle crept across this unreal landscape, stealthily making her way toward the balcony, her hands full of a random assortment of objects. Sweetums intercepted her halfway there, his feline face concerned as he rumbled against her, begging attention. Danielle shushed him away with a few quiet words, promising him extra walkies tomorrow, then continued out onto the balcony.

  
  


Once there, she slid the door shut behind her and sank into one of the chairs. Silently, she spread an assortment of items out on the table beside her and regarded them silently for a moment. Then, with a tiny gesture, she focused . . . and one of the flowers rose slowly into the air, hovering at eye level.

  
  


Letting out a little sigh, Danielle let the flower fall back to the table and concentrated on the next item: a candle, significantly heavier than the light flower. For a moment she felt certain a monster of a headache was developing; then, in the flicker of an eye, the candle rose only slightly unsteadily into the air and froze in spot as if glued there.

  
  


Letting the candle drop, she focused on the last item: a little pewter-like statuette from the living room, a small piece of bric-a-brac that would never be missed. Concentrating, she levitated it into the air, then set it spinning in a leisurely circle, watching it carefully. With another thought, it started dancing back and forth like some crazed disco gnome, still orbiting an invisible sun and actually developing a fairly jazzy rhythm.

  
  


"Oi, Magneto!"

  
  


With a little shriek, Danielle lost her hold on the metal. It hit the balcony with a resounding clang, causing both girls to wince.

  
  


Whirling, Danielle faced Krista with an evil expression. "Krista--!"

  
  


Krista just grinned at her sheepishly and stepped further out onto the balcony. "Hey, Danielle. That was some nice . . . telekinesis . . . you had going there."

  
  


Danielle shrugged uncomfortably. "You saw?"

  
  


"Kinda hard to miss, really." She plopped down easily in the other chair. "It looked fun, so I decided to come out and join you." She looked at Danielle calmly, amazingly unfazed by all she'd witnessed. "So . . . seein' what all you can do now?"

  
  


"That's right," she agreed, somehow calmer about it now that Krista was here, making everything sound so . . . normal . . . with her dry tone and easy grin. "I'm seeing if I can do . . . yeah, all sorts of things. And you just decided to drop in?"

  
  


Krista smirked. "Why not?"

  
  


"These moonlight chats haven't been going too well for us recently. It might end up nasty."

  
  


"Pessimist," Krista accused gleefully. "There's no need to be coy; just tell me if you want to be alone. I wouldn't want to interrupt any special late-night meetings." She eyed the contents of the small table. "On second thought, this does look kinda . . . Wiccan. I'm not intruding on anything, am I?"

  
  


At first Danielle was surprised, then she looked again at the objects on the table: a candle, a flower, and some small pewter figurine. She surprised herself by laughing. "No, not at all. I was just practicing. I suspected that I might be . . . abruptly better at it."

  
  


"And obviously you were right," Krista said with interest, smirking again. "So . . . what's your evaluation? Are you omniscient?"

  
  


"The word you're wanting is 'omnipotent', and no, I don't . . . think so." She wavered a little at the end. "I just do seem to be moving a little too quickly all of a sudden."

  
  


"And why couldn't you do all this before?"

  
  


Danielle thought about this a while. "I think it's a matter of intent, really. Before, when I thought it was all Force-talent, like any Jedi has, I thought I had to go slowly, that there was no way I could do anything so quickly. Now that I know otherwise . . . it's just a matter of willing it to happen and trying really, really hard to call on the Force . . . or whatever else I really am calling on."

  
  


"Sounds kinda witchy to me," Krista remarked. "Hey, bet you weigh the same as a duck."

  
  


Danielle responded without thinking. "Or very small rocks."

  
  


"Or churches."

  
  


Danielle paused in the action of picking up the dropped figurine to ponder something that had never really occurred to her before. "Don't you wonder *how* he knows that?"

  
  


"Getting off the subject here," Krista reminded her.

  
  


"Oh. Yeah. Right." Danielle retrieved the figurine and sat back up. "But that's not all there is to the experiment. See--" She extended a hand, and the flower floated, serene, then dropped back to the table. "Now, watch this." Slowly and deliberately, she reached up and removed her pendant, setting it with obvious reluctance on the table beside her. She looked at the flower, stretched out a hand . . . and nothing happened.

  
  


"Holy crap," Krista breathed, staring intently. "So you're not really a Jedi. It's the *necklace*?"

  
  


"Seems to be," Danielle concurred, putting it back on again. She sounded a little disappointed that the awesome power did not, in fact, originate from herself. As soon as the pendant touched her skin, the flower wafted serenely into the air and hung there, listing slightly.

  
  


"Wow, that's . . . freaky. But what does this tell us? Laura's a *really* good bargain shopper? The antique mall is a place of wonder? Our old Celtic knots may be cooler than we ever suspected?"

  
  


"Actually . . . this," Danielle said, unable to restrain a little note of glee from entering her voice. As she spoke, she hefted the little figurine--then threw it point blank at Krista.

  
  


With a yelp, the other girl flung both hands up in a warding gesture--and the pendant obediently stopped a few inches from them.

  
  


There was another pleasant silence.

  
  


"No," Krista said at last. "Oh, no no no!"

  
  


"And yet it floats," Danielle returned with a kind of savage triumph. "Welcome to the land of magic necklaces, Krista."

  
  


"No," Krista repeated, as though hoping that if she said it enough, it would become true. "I don't effing *believe* this! Me, too?"

  
  


Danielle gestured magnanimously. "Behold." The figurine continued to float quite happily before Krista's hands. She let them drop, and it fell with them, again hitting the balcony. "Oh, bollocks," she muttered, looking quite unhappy.

  
  


"What? You don't *want* to be magical? What's up with that?"

  
  


"I . . . I just . . ." Krista tucked her hands into her lap in a strangely vulnerable gesture. "Doesn't it scare you at all, Danielle? I mean . . . all of this." Her expansive gesture took in everything--the magic necklaces, the psychic fish currently making evil faces at Krista through the glass doors, the simple fact that they were in the Jedi Temple.

  
  


Danielle rose and walked to the balcony, thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess it does, a little. It still feels so surreal most of the time, or--even worse--like this is how it's *supposed* to be, and wanting to go home, or wondering how we got here . . . like *that*'s what's unnatural. Don't you feel it?"

  
  


Krista looked at her with interest. "Not as strongly as you, apparently, but yeah, I feel it a little. What's it mean?"

  
  


Danielle turned to face her again, face solemn. "Krista--can you remember how we got here?"

  
  


Instantly Krista had a throbbing headache. "Ach--*ow*. Now my head hurts, dammit. No, I can't--and it hurts to think about. The last thing I remember . . ." Her brow furrowed in concentration. "Something about . . . Panera Bread?"

  
  


Danielle raised a single eyebrow. "Well, that's more than I've got. I remember life in general, but the last really clear thing is the end of the school year. It's like--the longer I'm here, the less real my *real* life is. It's eating away at my memories."

  
  


Krista's face went white. "You don't think--it isn't going to take them all, is it? Blast it all," she smacked her hand on the arm of her chair, "we don't even know what this frickin' 'it' is! We don't have a sodding clue, Danielle!"

  
  


"Exactly." Danielle un-leaned from the rail and swished the hem of her dressing gown absently. "It's time to stop goofing around. We have to figure out why we're here and how to get back before we get stuck here forever."

  
  


Krista's expression as she looked at Danielle was inscrutable. "Would it really be that bad?"

  
  


"Now THERE's whatever is influencing us talking," she said savagely, and Krista's eyes widened in realization. "Crap," she muttered again. "You're right. I didn't . . . okay, this whole mind-control thingy has *got* to stop. Seriously."

  
  


Danielle grimaced. "I agree. It may look like home and it may quack like home, but it ain't home, Krista." She gave a strange little shudder. "It may feel like belonging, but it still feels wrong, in some strange way I just can't place. Probably because--hello!--we're in STAR WARS."

  
  


Krista shrugged. "True. But how are we ever going to find out all this stuff? Who knows the answers to any of this?"

  
  


"Someone. Someone out there knows everything, including how to get us home, and I plan to find that someone." Danielle's voice took on a steely determination. "So I'm a Jedi, huh? Well, there's got to be a reason for that too. At any rate, considering I seem to unexpectedly develop superpowers in the face of adversity, I should be able to take care of myself. And there's got to be a *reason*. All this insane stuff isn't just happening for the heck of it."

  
  


Krista cupped her chin in her hand. "I dunno. If I were God, I'd sure as hell stick people in nonexistent worlds and watch them flail around just for the sheer entertainment value." Her eyes widened, as if in sudden realization. "Or maybe we're both stark raving mad and smacking repeatedly into padded walls somewhere."

  
  


"I thought of that already," Danielle said, making a face. "And yet--can't you feel--the pace is picking up. Things keep moving faster and faster. Everything's gonna come to a boil eventually, and I think it's a lot nearer than we might hope. We need to be ready."

  
  


Krista shrugged. "Well, obviously you're psychic-er than I am, 'cuz I'm not feeling any of that. All I get is 'hey, hot Jedi' or 'Dude, that fish is frickin' evil'." A strange expression crossed her face. "Danielle . . . if somebody really did do this deliberately, why haven't they come to claim us yet? Are they just getting entertainment from sitting back and watching the chaos?"

  
  


Danielle stiffened a little. "I don't know. That's a really good point. What if--?"

  
  


A crash suddenly sounded somewhere below them, and both girls started nervously. "What was that?" Krista asked in a hoarse whisper.

  
  


Danielle shivered, suddenly cold despite the warm air. "I . . . I don't know. Let's go inside, all right?"

  
  


"Sounds like a plan," her friend agreed hastily, and without another word they gathered their belongings and hurried back into the apartment.

  
  


Neither of them saw as below, in the garden, a shadowy figure regarded them for a moment, the only indication of its presence the glowing ash at the end of a very non-Star Wars cigarette. Bringing the fag to its lips to inhale again, it pondered what it had just heard. So, they'd decided to get curious? They wanted to know why they were here and who'd brought them? Happy to oblige . . . all in good time, of course. In the meantime . . .

  
  


The figure dropped the cigarette to the ground and let it burn, then disappeared in a shimmer of crawling ebony light.

  
  


Let the games begin.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


#!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$!@#$

(*More fun that little stars, isn't it?*)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Annie was soaked to the bone, barely able to see through the haze of rain and fog, clutching a gun she certainly didn't know how to use, surrounded by a hail of gunfire and probably in more mortal peril than she had been so far on this whole adventure.

  
  


She was also having the time of her life.

  
  


Apparently, the Jedi were equally unfazed. Above the din of gunfire, she heard Dru yell, "What took you so long, Wes?"

  
  


"Ah, you know, the usual--hung around in some bars, picked up chicks, played some Rummy . . . I was trying to *find* you, you nit. You skipped from dive to dive faster than I could follow."

  
  


"Excuses, excuses."

  
  


"Yeah, look who's talking." Wes's head whipped around to look at Annie. "And . . . who's the girl?"

  
  


"I dunno. Just some girl I met."

  
  


"So you decide to bring her along for the ride and condemn her right with us?"

  
  


"Er . . . something like that."

  
  


Annie had been listening to all this with great interest, but she quickly realized that one of the armed evil men was coming at her, so she almost gleefully pointed her gun at him and watched with limitless satisfaction as he threw himself underwater for cover, shrieking like a little girl. Smirking, she turned and yelled over her shoulder, "So, Jedi, do we have a plan?"

  
  


"Now we do," Wes replied. "Run!"

  
  


They took off, sloshing through the water at an inhuman speed, very nearly leaving Annie behind. After only a few moments, however, Wes doubled back and simply picked her up, then shot off after Dru at that insane Jedi sprint.

  
  


Some time later, they finally stopped, panting, in a dark alley. As she caught her breath, Dru said, "So, Wes, what now?"

  
  


Still holding Annie, he shrugged, looking harassed. "We've got to get to the ship, obviously. My findings must be reported to the council immediately."

  
  


Annie considered pointing out to the Jedi that he was still holding her cradled to his chest like some sort of rag doll, then decided against it. It was, altogether, a far from unpleasant sensation, and the gleaming of blonde hair and sapphire eyes helped it edge into very nice indeed. So she simply settled back, content to wait until he noticed her again.

  
  


"Well," Dru sighed, "we have a problem."

  
  


Wes looked at her sharply. "You didn't get the moderator?"

  
  


Dru looked miffed. "I tried! The local scum wouldn't sell anything to me! They must have gotten word to avoid some offworlders unless they wanted to get on Ixian's bad side."

  
  


Wes stiffened a little. "Well, that complicates things. Now how do we get off this rock?"

  
  


Dru's eyes raked the nearby area. "There are other shops. We could always try one of them, and steal something if absolutely necessary. There's a fairly decent one nearby, just over in Mos Espa--Watto's--"

  
  


Instantly Annie jerked to full attention. "No!"

  
  


They both looked at her, as though they'd forgotten she was there. "No?" Dru asked, surprised. "Why not?"

  
  


Before Annie could answer, Wes cut her off. "Er . . . who are you, again?"

  
  


She beamed at him. "Just a friend. One whose life you probably just saved, by the by. You really do know how to sweep a girl off her feet."

  
  


In the dimness, it was hard to see, but he might actually have blushed a little. Setting her down, he eyed her warily. "Er . . . you're welcome."

  
  


"Besides, I'll vouch for her," Dru added, smirking a little at his discomfort. "She's with me, for the moment at least."

  
  


Wes looked wary. "Wait a minute, Dru. We don't really have any idea who this person is."

  
  


"I have an idea," Dru said defensively. "She helped me, in the store. And we talked a little. Then when Ixian's thugs came in, they thought she was with me, so I had to take her with me."

  
  


Wes looked at her appraisingly. "What's your name?"

  
  


"Annie."

  
  


He waited, obviously expecting some sort of surname, then apparently realized that was all he was getting. Unfazed, he continued, "What do you do for a living?"

  
  


Annie contemplated several answers (time-traveler, professional-evil-fiend-attracter, galaxy-hopper, Jedi magnet) then settled on the one she liked best. "Oh, I'm a diva."

  
  


There was a little pause. "Beg pardon?" Wes said, as Dru looked extremely amused.

  
  


"A diva. A professional singer. A celebrity. Well, I was, anyway." Annie frowned. "Or . . . I will be. In about fifty years. Now . . . well, since I'm not fifty, I'm not even born yet." Another thought occurred to her. "Not that I was born *here* anyway, but, you know--" At this point she realized the Jedi were giving her extremely odd looks. "It's complicated," she summed up, grinning a little.

  
  


"So," Wes said slowly, "why exactly did you aid Dru in the shop?"

  
  


Annie shrugged. "I didn't have a particular reason," she confessed. "She just . . . looked lonely."

  
  


Dru merely grinned wider, but Wes looked suspicious. "And what do you intend to do now that you have been incriminated along with us?"

  
  


She hadn't thought about this. Now that she did, however, the answer seemed obvious. "You two are going to Coruscant, right? Take me with you."

  
  


Dru blinked. "With us? To the Jedi Temple?"

  
  


Hey, coolness! Annie thought, but aloud she just said, "Yeah, sure. Sounds like a good time. Might as well see all the sights."

  
  


They obviously decided to just ignore this comment. "Why should we trust you?" Wes asked. "How are we to know you aren't some sort of spy?"

  
  


"Do the mind-whammy," Annie suggested. "I mean, you are Jedi and all. Couldn't you just *tell* if I were evil?"

  
  


"Smart girl," Dru said with a grin, and Annie returned the expression.

  
  


"All right," Wes said, conceding defeat. "You can come with us to Coruscant. But why did you say we shouldn't go in Watto's shop?"

  
  


Annie flinched. "That's . . . a little harder to explain."

  
  


"We know you'll try your hardest."

  
  


Annie fought back an evil comment. "I . . . you just shouldn't, all right? Bad things would happen. Bad, naughty, wicked, *evil*--"

  
  


The list might well have gone on forever had not Wes spoken. "We get the point," he cut her off in a tone of voice that really meant 'You're psycho'. "You don't have a better reason than that? And how do you *know* bad things will happen?"

  
  


Annie realized she might have just really put her foot in it. "Uh . . . I just . . . do?"

  
  


They both just looked at her.

  
  


After some time, she relented. They were Jedi, after all. If they couldn't handle it, who could? "I . . . sometimes I just know what's going to happen, in the future. It's . . . a long story, really, I can't control it, it's really random, and shouldn't we be fleeing or something? Aren't there bad guys on our tail?"

  
  


Neither Jedi paid any attention to that. "You see the future?" Dru said, amazed.

  
  


"Only a little. And only on some things. It's not really reliable," Annie confessed, feeling a bit like a fraud.

  
  


"Well, we definitely need to take you back to the Temple with us, then," Wes concurred. "So, I guess we take your word for it--no Watto's." Thank God, Annie thought silently. No dealing with the annoying Demon-Child and starting the apocalypse today. "Where, then?"

  
  


When she realized they were both looking at her, Annie put her hands in the air. "Whoa, whoa. Now that I don't know."

  
  


Wes gave a little irritated huff. "All right, then. Dru, did you--"

  
  


His words were cut off by a sudden spattering of gunfire from the street, and without a word Dru grabbed her arm and they were on the run again.

  
  


The chase was rather hazardous; they ducked down narrow alleyways and splashed through puddles just as they had a few minutes ago in the opposite direction.

  
  


After only a few minutes, however, they ducked rather unexpectedly into a nearby shop. Before Annie could fully comprehend what was happening, Dru had kicked the door shut while Wes whipped out his lightsaber, menacing the cowering shopkeeper with it. "You! Do you carry moderators for Model 2100 Jeryian Star Cruisers?"

  
  


When the little alien merely nodded, Wes roared, "Go get one, NOW!"

  
  


The little alien was gone in a flash, in which time the door began to sizzle under the heat of multiple blaster shots. Annie eyed it, mildly worried. "Er . . . Jedi? They've caught up with us."

  
  


"Really?" Dru responded sarcastically, fingering her lightsaber. "I hadn't noticed."

  
  


Annie was about to make a pithy comment on whether or not Jedi were supposed to be so sarcastic, but she was cut off by the return of the small alien with the desired part. Wes snatched it, then suddenly they were all Gung-ho once more, taking off at a purposeful sprint and leaving Annie to try her best to keep up.

  
  


The Jedi's haphazard escape route took them out a back door, out onto the main street, and through what had to be the filthiest waist-high puddle on the entire planet. After splashing their way through it, they turned into a narrow alley and leapt over a low fence, losing their pursuit in the process.

  
  


Opponents duly shaken, they recovered their breath for a moment, then got their bearings and promptly made a beeline for a sort of docking pad on which sat a small, gleaming spacecraft, presumably the Jedi's. Before they could reach it, however, a contingent of guards boiled out of a nearby tank-like contraption like ants from a hive, surrounding the craft.

  
  


Wes and Dru threw themselves to a stop, Annie smacking ungloriously into them from behind. "Damn," Wes muttered under his breath. "We appear to be outnumbered."

  
  


Dru shook her head, looking aggravated--no small wonder, considering she was soaked to the bone, exhausted, and growing very frustrated. "There's no way we can outmaneuver so many. What do we do now?"

  
  


Annie raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have some sort of plan?"

  
  


They glares they shot at her were answer enough.

  
  


"Some Jedi you are," she muttered.

  
  


This was obviously too much. "And you're contributing how?" Wes sniped back, fairly enough. "Come on, Miss Precognition. What do we do now?"

  
  


Before Annie could reply, however, there was a loud commotion in the distance, and the entire squad took off toward it, leaving the ship unguarded.

  
  


"Behold the power of the Force," Dru said a little smugly. "This is our chance; let's go!"

  
  


Annie started to follow, but was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of dizziness and disorientation unlike anything she'd ever felt. She staggered, the world blurring out around her, and to her astonishment a sudden flicker rippled through her, transporting her to another reality. She saw herself and the Jedi going to the ship and getting aboard, then flying away . . . 

  
  


. . . only to return to the present with an unpleasant jolt.

  
  


Her little gasp of shock caught the Jedi's attention, and they both gave her a concerned look, Dru catching her and keeping her from falling. "What?" she asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

  
  


Annie shook all over--whether from shock or terror or possibly elation, she didn't know. "I . . . I think I just had a vision."

  
  


The two Jedi stared at her. "What?" Wes said at last, obviously stunned.

  
  


Annie's certainty grew. "Scratch that; I *know* I had a vision. We can't go on the ship. It's a trap. They've disabled the hyperdrive and there's a fleet waiting for us in orbit. If we get on it, we're sealing our doom." When both Jedi merely stared at her, stunned, she turned away uneasily. "Just . . . trust me on this, all right?"

  
  


"Well." Wes gave himself a little shake, looking at her with something like awe. "How do we get off this rock, then?"

  
  


Annie gave him the look she usually reserved for simpletons or Krista. "We take another ship," she said slowly, being careful to enunciate clearly.

  
  


Wes glared at her again. "Obviously," he snapped. "But how--"

  
  


"Can it, Wes, I have a plan," Dru cut him off. "There's a decent little cruiser right over there, just begging to be taken."

  
  


"But the fleet in orbit--"

  
  


"Need I remind you that we're Jedi? We can elude them long enough to jump to hyperspace, and then we're home free."

  
  


Wes and Dru engaged in a momentary staring match, and not for the first time Annie wondered what exactly their relationship was. Was one of them a master, or were they merely partners sharing a mission for better success? Whatever the relationship may be, it was obvious it didn't exist without its fair share of friction. Unbidden, she felt herself grin. She looked forward to contributing to the camaraderie as well as the dissension in the near future.

  
  


Finally, Wes conceded. "Fine. We'll take the cruiser. But if we get caught, *you* get to explain to the Council."

  
  


"If we get caught," Dru pointed out sarcastically, "we won't *be* explaining to the Council, Wes."

  
  


There was another poignant stare-down, then Wes said, "All right, on 'three'. One -- two -- *three*!"

  
  


As one, the three renegades took off, splashing across the flooded sands to the nearby ship. They made it about three-quarters of the way before anyone even noticed them, and the Jedi deftly blocked the shots as soon as they started firing. They reached the ramp without injury, and Wes covered them while Dru hotwired the entrance pad. She got them inside successfully, and all three pelted up the ramp with the thugs hot on their heels.

  
  


In the cockpit, the two Jedi worked in silent tandem to swiftly bring the craft to full running mode as Annie watched, feeling rather useless. For a moment she simply stood, feeling dread rising in her stomach--until suddenly she collapsed into the chair behind her, her hands flying to her head, grimacing in pain as another series of too-bright images flashed before her eyes. Neither Jedi noticed until Annie said, strangled, "Take off--NOW!"

  
  


The quickness of their response was admirable--the cruiser instantly lurched into flight, soaring upward at what was undoubtedly an unsafe angle and knocking everyone back into their seats sharply. They didn't accomplish it a moment too soon, however--in the spot they had just vacated, a hail of artillery suddenly pierced the air. Two tank-like vehicles which had lain in wait had just pulled into view, and the gunfire would have ripped them to shreds if it had caught them.

  
  


There was no time for thanks or astonishment; the threat was far from over. Their unwieldy craft arced madly across the sky, listing a little to the right and making suspicious whining noises that Annie fervently hoped didn't mean something important was about to break off. Then, just to make things more fun, as soon as the stars became visible, a whole host of enemy ships appeared as well, moving toward them menacingly.

  
  


Annie just closed her eyes.

  
  


Several extremely tense minutes later, after the ship flung itself wildly about and rocked under severe fire, she heard the incredibly beautiful sound of the engines straining, and opened her eyes to see the stars streak into starlines as they leapt into hyperspace.

  
  


For a moment silence reigned in the cockpit as everyone absorbed the fact that they were still alive. Then, as one, both Jedi turned to stare at Annie.

  
  


There was another little pause as she met their composed but inquiring stares. After some time, she said the first thing that came to mind. "See? I *do* contribute."

  
  


"You just saved all our lives," Wes said softly, his blue eyes boring holes into her.

  
  


Annie just gave him a sheepish grin. "Well, it's mutual."

  
  


Dru was still looking at her in open astonishment. "You really *do* see the future, don't you? Oh, Force, wow. The council is going to be astonished. I can't wait for them to meet you."

  
  


"Oh yeah," Annie agreed, somewhat half-heartedly. "I can't *wait*."


	12. And one to go

A/N: As always, I apologize for the delay--I'm aware that this time it was quite possible to believe I was dead. I've just had other things to do over the summer (like hunting for small lost fish and consorting with despicable pirates and ogling red pandas. Ah, summer). To compensate, this is a ridiculously long chapter, which I had a great deal of fun writing. So thanks to anyone still reading this hunk o' junk, and enjoy. Please review! Pretty please!

  
  


Soundtrack: Crossed Swords from Pirates of the Caribbean, Coruscant Chase from Attack of the Clones. Savvy?

  
  


P.S. If there are any grammar errors, I apologize deeply. I tried to edit but somehow things always sneak through (falling blades of grass, birthday presidents, magical hot cocoa, you know). Feel free to point them out to me, nicely. I'm very sensitive.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


TWELVE

  
  
  
  
  
  


The gymnasium was pitch black.

  
  


When Danielle closed the door softly behind her, the sound echoed throughout the vaulted room, dying away into the stifling padded walls. It was far past the hours that any of the other Jedi would use the facility, so silence hung like a shroud across the room, and every movement of hers was unnaturally loud in her ears. She could hear each light step of her booted feet, the faint swish of the heavy cloak she wore, and the soft, even sounds of her own breathing. For a moment she smiled as she always did to feel her breath coming easily and cleanly, without the wheezing or coughing that had once been so commonplace, then she reached the center of the room and her concentration returned to the matter at hand.

  
  


There was a familiar snap-hiss, and suddenly Danielle's skin was bathed with the eerie blue glow of the lightsaber she held confidently in her right hand. For a moment she simply stared at it, entranced, waving it back and forth before her face a few times and listening to its quiet hums as the arced laser cut through the inky blackness.

  
  


Shedding the heavy cloak and tossing it well out of her way, Danielle brought her heels together and saluted an imaginary opponent in three brusque motions. Then, the long-practiced movement coming naturally to her, she fell into the en garde stance, glowing blade extended and wrist angled to point the tip at the throat of an opponent.

  
  


For the length of five heartbeats, she held the pose, waiting, letting the Force flow into her and open her movements, her mind recalling the lessons of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. Then, acknowledging a silent instruction, she began to move.

  
  


Her motions were simple at first, her footwork unhesitating as she advanced and retreated, the arc of her blade shielding the majority of her body. Then, gradually, she began to add parries, wrist and arm sliding like a well-oiled machine to block an enemy's blows as she continued to move backward and forward. Despite the swiftness of her movements, she remained relaxed, focused, her shoulders held at a comfortable angle and her eyes unblinking. The brilliant glow of her saber drew lines of color across her vision as it flickered back in forth in the classic defenses, nearly blinding against the pervading darkness.

  
  


Satisfied with this phase of her activities, she extended her arm and dropped into a flawless lunge, the line of her shoulders straight as an arrow and her legs curved to drop her under an opponent's defense. Recovering, she made a few more parries and lunged again, lower still. Recovering forward, she made a step-lunge and held it for what seemed ages, until her legs trembled and a faint sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.

  
  


At last, she straightened, allowing her legs to relax and her arm to drop. Folding her arms, ever mindful of the deadly blade in her hand, she bowed; then, without hesitation, she flowed into movement again.

  
  


Her mind picturing a wily Sith opposing her, she feinted with a short thrust then dropped into a lunge, recovering only to make a low parry and riposte, thrusting again at a ghostly midsection. Whipping her blade in a circle, she attempted to disarm the other, then swirled to evade an answering lunge. Motions growing swifter still, she lunged even as she pivoted to avoid another strike, then slapped her blade fiercely against her adversary's to try and knock the weapon from his hands. She lunged, parried an imagined riposte, and lunged again, engaging her rival in lightning swordplay that ended when she swirled away, his measure taken.

  
  


The ghostly Sith was on her in a flash, and now Danielle stepped up the pace once more, making a high sweep towards the other's head and ducking under a returned blow. Twisting around, she slashed at her opponent's waste, then leapt nimbly over his answering lunge. A savage exchange of parries, too blindingly fast for an observer to follow, ended when Danielle heaved her blade upward, throwing her opponent off balance, and lanced out with a sharp kick aimed at the other's midsection. Fluidly, she pivoted around to follow the kick with another lunge that carried her low, under her adversary's riposte, then recovered in time to barely parry another lunge--

  
  


"You have learned much, young Skywalker, but you are not a Jedi yet."

  
  


Danielle shrieked, stumbling mid-lunge and nearly dropping her lightsaber. Whipping around, she stopped short when she saw her unexpected visitor. "KRISTA!"

  
  


The smaller girl grinned, the sheer evilness of the expression rivaling Danielle's own best wicked smile. "Well, hello, Danielle. I noticed you were missing from your bedroom and wondered where you'd have gone. After a little searching, I came here . . . and here you are, going all Matrix on me."

  
  


Danielle strode angrily toward the other girl and shook her lightsaber in her face. "Krista, did it ever occur to you that it might be a bad idea to sneak up on someone who's practicing fencing with A LIGHTSABER?!"

  
  


Krista blinked at her innocently, clearly unfazed. "But, Cello . . ." She reached within her dressing gown and drew forth a small cylinder. "I have a lightsaber, too." She grinned cheekily.

  
  


Danielle leapt back, suddenly wary again. "You . . . you have a lightsaber? Who on earth was stupid enough to give you one of those?"

  
  


Krista made a face. "No one gave one to me; around here, I am still just a ditzy handmaiden." She turned it on and admired its brilliant green glow. "This is Qui-Gon's."

  
  


Danielle felt faint. "You stole Qui-Gon's lightsaber? Gee, Krista, do you think he'll notice it's missing?"

  
  


Krista rolled her eyes. "I didn't steal it; I borrowed it. I'll put it back before he even realizes it's gone. But--hey. Where did you get yours?"

  
  


"This is mine," Danielle said icily. "Well . . . kindof mine. I'm borrowing it from the gym; they have several they keep around just as practice blades. I'm allowed to use it, unlike you."

  
  


"Allowed, shmallowed," Krista proclaimed, waving her hand. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. I've come to help you practice."

  
  


Danielle just looked at her. "You've come to help me. Right."

  
  


Krista beamed. "I sure have. And from the looks of what I just witnessed, you really need the help." When she saw Danielle's brows begin to draw together, she added quickly, "I love you, Danielle."

  
  


"You only say that when you know it would get ugly if you didn't."

  
  


"True," Krista shrugged, still unperturbed. "You know I'm kidding, though, right? You were freaking awesome."

  
  


Danielle allowed herself to be placated. "I thought I wasn't a Jedi yet."

  
  


"Well, you're not. You're still young and weak. So . . ." With an evil look, she dropped into an obvious mockery of Danielle's en garde stance. "I challenge you to a duel!"

  
  


Danielle just stared at her. "You've got to be kidding me."

  
  


"No way am I kidding. Answer me these questions three ere the other side you see, errant knave!"

  
  


"You're insane. You do realize you're holding a real lightsaber? If one of us screwed up, we could lose a limb before we even noticed something was wrong."

  
  


"What?" Krista gave her a playful jab, making Danielle jump back again. "Buggering off, are ye, you pansy? You won't fight to defend God and your country and puppies and Christmas?"

  
  


When Krista made another swipe, laughing maniacally, Danielle had had enough. "All right! I'll fight you, just to wipe the floor with you like you deserve. You're practically begging for it."

  
  


"Bring it on!" Krista whooped, gathering up the skirt of her dressing gown in her other hand and baring her teeth at Danielle in a manic grin.

  
  


Danielle knew what she was doing well enough to keep them from getting hurt, so when she attacked she made certain she wouldn't actually strike Krista. 

  
  


Thus, the battle engaged in earnest.

  
  


It was an obscene parody of Danielle's grace and professionalism, since both girls were giggling before the first blow even landed. Krista struck first, hacking wildly at Danielle, and Danielle parried easily, returning with a wild swing of her own that Krista dove to the ground to avoid. Danielle took advantage of this to kick her a few times, but when Krista regained her feet, she came at Danielle again with renewed determination.

  
  


"You're no match for a true Jedi, Handmaiden," Danielle taunted, waving her blade in front of Krista's face.

  
  


"I know it," Krista returned, grinning hugely.

  
  


Danielle picked up her cue. "Then why are you smiling?"

  
  


"Because I know something you don't know," Krista said smugly. Leaping backward, she transferred her lightsaber to her other hand with manic laughter. "I am not left-handed!"

  
  


Krista, choosing to wield her lightsaber like a baseball bat, took a wild swing at Danielle and lost her balance, spinning around dizzily in her own momentum. "Strike three, she's out!" Danielle laughed, swatting at her again.

  
  


Krista launched herself at Danielle with a high-pitched battle cry. "Die, Jedi scum!"

  
  


The doors slammed open.

  
  


Both girls whirled, astonished, twin cries of shock escaping their throats. For a moment, it was too dark to discern the figure standing in the doorway from such a distance; then he moved closer, and they both grimaced.

  
  


"Hey, Qui-Gon," Danielle said, morosely.

  
  


Krista 'eep'ed and tried, unsuccessfully, the appear nonchalant.

  
  


"Hello, girls," the Jedi Master said drily. "I don't suppose you would mind returning my lightsaber?"

  
  
  
  


*************************************** =) *************************************

  
  
  
  


Breakfast the next morning was uncharacteristically silent.

  
  


When Obi-Wan strolled in, totally oblivious, the two young women of the household were seated at the table, eating silently, while Qui-Gon seemed to stand guard near the doorway, glowering at both of them good-naturedly. Not noticing the tension in the air, Obi-Wan snagged an insta-heating breakfast packet, sat down, and tucked in.

  
  


"So," Qui-Gon said into the silence, his voice rather droll.

  
  


"A needle pulling thread," Krista muttered. Everyone stared at her for a moment, then decided to pretend she hadn't spoken.

  
  


"Today, we have lunch with the Nubian ladies again," Qui-Gon informed them. "I was planning on entertaining them here, but we are completely out of several things I need to prepare lunch. Danielle? Kristae?" When they looked up at him, he continued, "You two will go into town today and pick these things up."

  
  


"Alone?" Danielle said, worried.

  
  


"That's not a problem," Obi-Wan piped up. "I'll do it."

  
  


"No," Qui-Gon said firmly. "They'll do it. I think they need the distraction. As does a certain giant predatory cat who hasn't been getting enough exercise recently."

  
  


Obi-Wan glanced around the room warily, then sighed. "I missed something again, didn't I?"

  
  


"And," Qui-Gon continued, "I think it's time I gave Danielle this." Reaching behind him on the counter, he turned around and presented a small, wrapped package to Danielle. She looked at him curiously a moment, then accepted it, and made quick work of opening it.

  
  


Inside was a small, economical black cylinder. It fit perfectly in Danielle's grip.

  
  


She looked up at him, astonished. "This errand makes me need a lightsaber?"

  
  


Qui-Gon grinned faintly. "Not at all. But I observed you fencing with yon Handmaiden," he shot Krista a look, and she smiled sheepishly, "and you are now skilled enough to carry one. Henceforth, this lightsaber is yours. Traditionally you would construct your own, but . . ." He trailed off when he noticed the expression on her face. "What?"

  
  


"This is . . . my lightsaber?" Danielle asked slowly.

  
  


When Qui-Gon nodded, a smile as wicked as any Krista had ever given blossomed on her face. "I don't know what to say," she purred.

  
  


"I do," Obi-Wan said morosely. "God help us all."

  
  
  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  
  
  


In the Jedi Temple's hangar bay, the two girls stood for a few minutes, trying to find a speeder the proper size.

  
  


"Qui-Gon is insane," Danielle said abruptly. "We can't do this alone. I can't even fly any of these things."

  
  


"I can," Krista said brightly.

  
  


There was a little pause. "You," Danielle said slowly, "who didn't even get your driver's license until the end of your senior year, expect me to trust you to fly a STAR WARS SHIP?"

  
  


"Why not?" Krista asked cheerfully. "I was trained how to do it on Naboo. We handmaidens are resourceful like that."

  
  


Danielle considered protesting further, then realized that Sweetums, who was coming along for the ride, had cornered one of the hangar bay attendants and was growling very loudly. "All right, whatever! If we die, it's your fault. Sweetums!" she yelled, and the Nexu perked its ears up. "Come on, boy, we're going for a little ride."

  
  


After several minutes and not a few mishaps, the two girls got him into the back of the speeder and made it clear that he should stay there, then strapped themselves in. Checking to make sure the area was clear of any other speeders, Krista carefully maneuvered them out of the parking space, then turned and sped easily out of the hangar bay and into the open traffic.

  
  


Things just went downhill from there.

  
  


About five minutes into the trip Danielle's fingernails had sunk into the fabric upholstery of the seat so deeply they would leave permanent marks and Sweetums was yowling continuously from the back seat. Krista, however, was having the time of her life. "What's the matter with you guys? I'm doing fine."

  
  


"Fine?" Danielle squeaked, her voice shrill. "You call this fi--LOOK OUT!"

  
  


Krista saw the incoming ship as soon as Danielle shouted and, instead of swerving to the side to avoid it as a normal person would have, ducked their speeder under the other--bringing them directly into a lane of oncoming traffic.

  
  


Danielle's fingernails came free of the seat easily enough as she flung up her hands to cover her eyes, wailing, "My God, we're going to die!" Sweetums howled his agreement from the back seat, tail lashing wildly and nearly hitting Krista.

  
  


Krista was concentrating too hard to make any sort of reply. Ignoring the screams and rude gestures from the other traffic, she cut a hard right, arcing through space where no other ships were flying, turned into an upward spiral around a nearby skyscraper. At the top, she hit the accelerator and the speeder lurched forward, merging seamlessly with the traffic lane they'd been in to start with.

  
  


"You can open your eyes now," Krista informed Danielle conversationally. Slowly, still half-expecting to die at any moment, Danielle dropped her hands from her face and warily looked around her. They were, indeed, out of immediate mortal peril at the moment. "Oh," she said, her voice still very alarmed. "Oh, oh, oh, oh--"

  
  


"Danielle--stop it!" Krista reached over and smacked her. "You're hyperventilating!"

  
  


"KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!"

  
  


Krista looked back in front of them in time to jerk the ship over a floating pylon and into the correct lane for their destination. "Danielle, calm down! We're fine!"

  
  


"No thanks to you," Danielle snapped, her breathing still unnaturally fast. "You--you--I am never getting into a moving vehicle with you again. EVER."

  
  


"How will you get home?" Krista inquired, following the brightly lit advertisements directing them to the nearby shopping district.

  
  


"I'LL fly, thank you very much."

  
  


"You don't know how!"

  
  


"I still can't be any worse than you!"

  
  


The speeder was tensely silent for a few minutes as Krista continued to navigate the space lanes. When she turned onto the exit led to the shopping district, she immediately slowed, looking around with dismay. None of the ships up ahead were moving. "It's a traffic jam," she remarked, surprised.

  
  


Danielle blinked. "How can there be a traffic jam when there's so much open space around us?"

  
  


Krista instantly perked up. "Look! There's an open section just there. I could lower us down, take us to the right a bit and then cut back into--"

  
  


"NO!"

  
  


Krista huffed, sitting back in her seat with a petulant pout on her face. "Fine, have it your way. We'll just sit here and be bored and get back late and tick Qui-Gon off some more."

  
  


"But we'll still be alive."

  
  


Krista pulled their speeder up into the thick of the traffic jam and stopped reluctantly. Soon they were hemmed in on all sides by surrounding ships, some close enough they could just reach out and touch them.

  
  


"Hey, look at that!" Krista exclaimed, pointing to Danielle's right. "Isn't that just the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

  
  


Danielle looked. In the ship next to theirs, the pilot, an elderly human woman, was cradling a small bright orange puffball in her lap and crooning to it lovingly. Danielle frowned. "That's funny. It looks kinda familiar." She stared for a moment, concentrating, then suddenly brightened with recognition. "I know! It's called a Balthaz. It's from the same planet as Sweetums; I looked it up when I was trying to find out what to feed him, because it's one of his natural prey--"

  
  


Danielle froze, suddenly realizing what she'd just said. Next to her, Krista also went stiff, the implications striking her as well.

  
  


After this, three things happened simultaneously. Krista bent her head forward and rested it against the steering wheel, sighing, "Oh, crap,"; Danielle turned around and lunged backward, yelling Sweetums' name; and Sweetums gave a very predatory yipping howl and lunged for the speeder next to theirs.

  
  


Chaos was too kind a word for what happened. The old lady gave an ear-splitting shriek (perfectly understandable, since a roaring monster was leaping at her in obvious attack mode) and burrowed under the seat, taking her puffball with her. Sweetums' leap carried clean into the other speeder--and, before she even had time to think about it, Danielle leapt to her feet and followed.

  
  


A very unpleasant ten minutes followed.

  
  


When they were over, the speeder was heading on its merry way to the grocery store.

  
  


Krista, still in awe, said, "I can't believe you mind-whammied those cops. Way to be a rebel, Danielle!"

  
  


Danielle, who was decidedly less happy with the situation, frowned more deeply. "I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't started yelling that they weren't real and so you didn't have to pay any fines to them."

  
  


Krista shrugged. "There was simply no call for Officer Wiggins to say I looked like a seventies fashion reject. Hey, wait a minute." She turned to stare at Danielle. "How would they even know what that means in Star Wars?"

  
  


They both thought about this a moment, then shrugged it off.

  
  


"At least they didn't charge you for the sniblit-thingummy," Krista added.

  
  


"Yeah. And Sweetums got off pretty lucky, too. Who'd have thought the old lady knew so much about martial arts?"

  
  


Krista pulled off the highway on the correct exit spaceway and flew leisurely into a local shopping district. "Hey, there it is. Weezie's Food World. Huh. Why don't you go in there and get what we need while I visit the music store?"

  
  


"No." Danielle's tone was firm. "I need your help in watching Sweetums. I think we've had enough excitement for one day."

  
  


"Please. I think we've had as much excitement today as is physically possible. I mean, come on; what else could possibly happen?"

  
  


This, of course, is never a wise question to ask, especially when one is trapped inside an alternate dimension containing telekinetic fish.

  
  


Krista parked the speeder with a decided lack of finesse and the three compatriots tumbled out unceremoniously. The first obstacle, revolving doors, provided a little difficulty for Sweetums, but some delicate maneuvering soon got the Nexu into the supermarket.

  
  


Inside, Danielle and Krista blinked at a store that remarkably resembled a drugstore back home on Earth, only ten times bigger and with merchandise that belonged in . . . well, Star Wars. To their left was the food, aisles and aisles of it stretching endlessly into the distance. To their right were the household products, most of which neither girl had the slightest idea what they were.

  
  


For a moment they stood in the entrance, listening to the Wookie Choir Muzak-equivalent howl over the intercom and watching the moving advertisements for various products wave frantically at them from the walls. They finally had to move when someone else wanted to get in, and Krista broke the silence. "Okay . . . what, exactly, do we need to get?"

  
  


Danielle squinted at her list. "It says here we need a six-pound vajinx, two cylinders brown fava sauce, one box Alderaanian stuffing mix, two packages heat-and-serve rolls, ten squickles still in the shell, a bottle of Merstian wine, a replacement roll of sticky-tape, a cannister of cenna-scented spray-oil, and a Grenetian hamster."

  
  


"A hamster?"

  
  


"I'm sure it's not the kind of hamster we're thinking of," Danielle assured her hastily. "All right, this will go faster if we split up. Here." Carefully, she ripped the list in half, and handed the lower half to Krista. "You take--"

  
  


"Oh, no! Don't you try and give me the hamster-half of the list!"

  
  


"All right, all right, trade me!" When they'd switched lists, Danielle huffed impatiently, "Okay, let's get those items and meet back here, then we'll go pay."

  
  


"Sounds good," Krista said. Squinting suspiciously at her list, she headed off at a brisk pace toward the back of the store, leaving Danielle and Sweetums standing together at the entrance.

  
  


"Okay . . . a Grenetian hamster." Danielle thought about this a moment, then spotted one of the store's employees, a young man approximately her age, walking past. "Hey! Excuse me! I have a question."

  
  


The man stopped, then smiled charmingly at Danielle as she trotted over. "Yes?"

  
  


"I was wondering if you could tell me what a Grenetian hamster is and where I could get one."

  
  


He gave her a slightly odd look. "A hamster is a type of serving spoon that allows pasta to drain; Grenetian is just one of the brands that makes it. It'd be over there, in appliances." He indicated one of the innumerable aisles to the right.

  
  


Danielle gave him a beaming smile. "Thanks," she chirped, then took off toward the place he'd indicated, only to stop when he yelped. "Hey! You can't have that--that thing in here!" he exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Sweetums. "And certainly not without a leash!"

  
  


Danielle frowned. "You think it obeys me? I just let it follow me around and hope no one irritates it. Why, just last week at the hardware store, this one clerk started yelling and before you knew it--" She made a gesture. "Chomp."

  
  


"What?"

  
  


Danielle hissed, "Shh! Lower your voice! Loud noise rouses its predatory instincts!" As the clerk paled in fear, Sweetums obligingly stared straight at him and began growling audibly.

  
  


"But . . . but you have to . . ."

  
  


"You want to take him outside? Be my guest." When the clerk made no move to do so, Danielle smiled cheerfully again. "Thanks for your help!" she said, breezing past him. She heard Sweetums give a playful little yip as he head-butted the guard behind her, then girl and monster took off toward the indicated aisle.

  
  


At the back of the store, Krista stared blankly at the endless shelves full of heat and serve rolls. There had to be at least eighty different varieties, and Qui-Gon had failed to specify which kind he wanted. Eventually, she closed her eyes, held out one hand, invoked the spirit of her father to guide her hand, and walked forward. The first package of rolls she bumped into went into her handbasket, and she cheerily checked the first item off of her list. Now for the Alderaanian stuffing mix. She looked around for a few minutes, waiting for inspiration to strike, before she just picked a direction and went that way. It had to eventually lead her to either a grocery-store worker or the stuffing mix, right?

  
  


Danielle, meanwhile, had acquired the hamster and now was examining the various cans of spray oil to find the cenna-scented variety. When she did, she sniffed it just for good measure and then spent the next three minutes sneezing as Sweetums butted her shoulder in concern. Much more warily, she placed the oil in her basket and checked the next item on her list: sticky-tape.

  
  


A few minutes later, she'd acquired the tape and, with some assisted growling from Sweetums, assured the clerk in the liquor department that she was indeed old enough to buy alcohol (she felt she'd already done enough mind-tricking for one day). Now for the still-in-shells squickles.

  
  


Figuring her best bet would be to ask for help, she headed for the nearby seafood counter and approached the young woman working there. "Excuse me?"

  
  


The young woman turned and stared at her expressionlessly. "Can I help you?"

  
  


Danielle frowned, squinting at her. "Do . . . do I know you?"

  
  


"No."

  
  


She glanced at the girl's nametag, which read, Hi, my name is Cynthia D., and I'm here to help you! "You're sure?"

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


Danielle shrugged it off. "Alright then. I wanted to know if you could tell me what a squickle is?"

  
  


"Edible crustacean from Malastare. Shell-less ones are behind the counter, still-shelled ones are in that tank right there." She indicated a mass of crawly, spidery-like creatures that scuttled at an amazing rate all over the inside of the tank.

  
  


Horrified, she asked, "They're still alive?"

  
  


"In the shell, yeah. Just grab yourself a bucket and put as many as you want in there. I can ring 'em up here, if you want."

  
  


Danielle looked at the bucket the girl proffered distastefully. "That's okay. Thanks."

  
  


"No problem," the dark-haired girl shrugged, then turned back to whatever she was doing before.

  
  


Danielle approached the tank of giant spiders with extreme wariness. "Qui-Gon, when I get home, you are going to be so dead," she muttered, thinking unkind thoughts about the Jedi Master. "Here goes nothing . . ." With a grimace, she rolled up one sleeve and stuck her hand into the tank.

  
  


A few minutes later, she'd collected all her squickles and was now trying to keep the bucket from squirming out of her grasp. She took the lid the girl offered her gratefully, but didn't get it on before one of the squickles launched itself out of the bucket and straight at her. She screeched, but before it reached her Sweetums thrust his head between them, and the squickle landed squarely in his mouth. There was a loud crunch!, and Sweetums gave Danielle a very satisfied grin as she scratched him and cooed what a very good boy he was. Making sure the clerk wasn't looking, she quickly grabbed another squickle from the tank and thrust it into the bucket, then slammed the lid on before any more could escape.

  
  


She started to walk back to the main door but stopped in front of the rest of the tanks containing various types of still-living edibles. She winced when she saw several fish that looked like Gumbi, and grinned at the species that followed her along the length of their tank, huge eyes locked onto her own. At last, she saw a huge tank filled with murky water so thick its occupants were impossible to make out. Peering in more closely, she was able to discern very little except the small sign on the tank which said, Please, do not tap on the glass.

  
  


It might as well have said, Please do not push the big red button. For a moment Danielle futilely resisted temptation, then succumbed. Reaching out, she gave the glass of the tank three distinct raps.

  
  


Before the Force had time to do more than shriek a warning a huge tentacle shot out of the top of the tank and wrapped itself around Danielle, pulling her kicking and screaming into the air. As Sweetums roared and leapt up, trying to free her, the tentacle pulled her down into the tank.

  
  


For a moment there was a great deal of chaos as Danielle thrashed and struggled, fighting both to free herself and to not inhale any water. She managed to get her lightsaber free only in time to remember that it didn't work underwater, and she gave a silent scream of fury. Lashing out with the Force, she kicked herself free of the monster's grasp and threw herself bodily from the tank.

  
  


Landing on the ground with a splat, she gasped as Sweetums sank his teeth into her cloak and dragged her backward along the floor, away from the writhing tentacles that thrust up from the tank, seeking to recapture their prey. Still gasping for air, she could only glare wordlessly as the girl behind the counter said, "Didn't you read the sign?"

  
  


******************************************************************************

  
  


Danielle had been at the appointed meeting place for nearly fifteen minutes when she began to grow concerned. At last, she said to Sweetums, "Hey, baby, track down Krista for me, will you?" With a whuffle of agreement, the Nexu sniffed the air for a moment then set off determinedly. Ignoring the stare of the clerk who'd accosted her earlier, she followed dutifully.

  
  


About five minutes later, she found herself in the darkest depths of the store, so far in she couldn't even see the entrance anymore. Beginning to grow slightly worried, she finally turned a corner and saw her friend standing in the middle of an aisle wringing her hands and staring around her wild-eyed.

  
  


When she caught sight of Danielle, Krista shrieked and launched herself forward, nearly knocking Danielle over with the force of her hug. "Danielle Danielle Danielle! You found me! Oh my God!"

  
  


Danielle finally managed to disentangle herself. "Yeah, finally. Krista, what have you been doing back here? What's taking so long?"

  
  


Krista's eyes darted around, looking anywhere but at Danielle. "I--I--well, it's a really really big grocery store, and I didn't ask where anything was--and then I got a little . . . turned around . . ."

  
  


"Oh my God." Danielle could feel a truly evil grin growing on her face. "You mean . . . you got lost?"

  
  


Krista's wordless glare was the only answer she need.

  
  


"Aww . . . poor baby! Well, then widdle Kwista, let's get you out of here, okay?"

  
  


Krista looked like she really wanted to flip her off but nobly suppressed it. "Okay, then, if it's so easy, you find your way out." She paused, just now noticing something, and frowned. "Danielle . . . why are you all wet?"

  
  


"I had a little run-in with the Watcher in the Water," she muttered. "After that, this should be a piece of cake. Come on," she ordered, striding purposefully back the way they'd come.

  
  


A few minutes later, they arrived: back in the very same aisle where she'd first found Krista.

  
  


"You've got to be kidding me."

  
  


"Ha! I told you it wasn't that easy!"

  
  


Danielle stared with horror at the near-thousands of varieties of canned shrellik fish. "It's . . . it's some kind of mind trick. Or a joke."

  
  


"I'm not laughing."

  
  


Danielle folded her arms. "All right. We're both grown women--well, mostly," she added, eyeing Krista. "And I'm a Jedi. I know we can find our way out of the grocery store."

  
  


"Yeah, Ms. Jedi. Go for it."

  
  


Giving her a superior look, Danielle strode off once more, and Krista followed, rolling her eyes.

  
  


In a few minutes, Danielle rounded a corner and shrieked when she saw herself staring into the buggy eyes of thousands of packages of shrellik fish. "I don't believe this!"

  
  


"You better believe it. What? Isn't there some sort of Jedi trick to get us out of here?"

  
  


Danielle thought intently for a minute, then closed her eyes, focusing on the nearest life form. When she had it locked in her mind, she said confidently, "Okay, I've got it! Follow me."

  
  


This time, their travels took them to a food counter, at which both girls nearly cried in relief. "Hallelujah," Krista said with feeling.

  
  


"Did you get everything on your list?" Danielle asked.

  
  


"Everything but the vajinx."

  
  


"I can 'elp you with that," a nearby voice said helpfully.

  
  


Both girls turned to see a very familiar man behind the corner smiling at them cheerfully. Krista instantly grinned. "Well, I just bet you can," she purred.

  
  


Ignoring her, Danielle stepped forward. "We'd like a six-pound vajinx, please."

  
  


"Not a problem." The young man opened the sliding glass doors of the display cabinet and selected a mammoth bird-like creature--thankfully not alive--and began pulling it out. "You guys having a big dinner party?"

  
  


"Something like that," Danielle agreed.

  
  


"You ever prepared vajinx before?"

  
  


"No, but I don't think we'll be the ones cooking it," Danielle said thoughtfully. Krista remained staring dreamily at the clerk, aloof from the conversation.

  
  


"Well, make sure your chef knows to marinate it for at least two hours," he said warningly. "It's a real rubbery bird, and if you don't cook it right, it tends to squeak when you bite into it."

  
  


"I squeak when you bite me, too," Krista said helpfully.

  
  


There was a little pause, then the conversation continued as though she hadn't spoken. "Thanks. I'll remember that," Danielle said, taking the now-wrapped bird from him.

  
  


"Any time. You ladies have a nice day." The clerk waved helpfully as the two departed, Danielle nearly having to drag an enraptured Krista away. "Danielle, did you see, that guy looked just like--"

  
  


"Yeah, Krista. I saw."

  
  
  
  


******************************************************************************

  
  
  
  


Checkout occurred happily without incident, and within a few minutes the girls were back in their speeder heading for home.

  
  


"Well, that was an adventure," Danielle said thoughtfully.

  
  


Krista, once again driving against Danielle's protests, nodded. "I understand now why Qui-Gon assigned it to us as punishment," she agreed. "But the nice-looking clerk wasn't so bad. And," she snickered, "at least I didn't get attacked by any of the food I was attempting to purchase."

  
  


It took her a while to notice Danielle was no longer paying attention. "Danielle? Hellooooo? Earth to Cello: do you copy?"

  
  


Danielle blinked and turned back to look at Krista. "What?"

  
  


"You're zoning out on me. What is it?"

  
  


Danielle gestured subtly behind them. "That black, covered speeder . . . I think it's following us."

  
  


Krista glanced at the indicated vehicle in her rear-view mirror equivalent and frowned. "Are you sure? This is a fairly popular skyway."

  
  


"Turn really suddenly," Danielle ordered.

  
  


As per orders, Krista turned the speeder rather sharply into an adjacent lane, cutting off several nearby vehicles. Just as Danielle had expected, the following vehicle did the same.

  
  


"You're right," Krista whispered. "What do we do?"

  
  


Danielle hesitated for a moment, fear and uncertainty warring in her mind. She had the Force on her side and she knew Krista had basic self-defense, but she doubted this was a situation they could handle on their own. "Head for the Jedi Temple," she said. "And step on it!"

  
  


Krista rammed her foot on the accelerator and the small speeder shot forward, slamming them back into their seats and making Sweetums yowl indignantly. Behind them, the black speeder also began to move faster, no longer trying to be subtle.

  
  


At first they wove through busy lanes of traffic, earning themselves all sorts of negative attention as they cut off other vehicles. Eventually Krista pulled sharply onto a nearly empty skyway, and the other speeder followed. After only a few minutes it became clear the others were gaining on them. "What now?" Krista yelled above the roar of the wind.

  
  


"Keep driving!" Danielle shouted, drawing her blaster. "We have to try and reach the Temple first. That's the only way--DUCK!"

  
  


Krista doubled over as a volley of blaster fire suddenly rained down on them. Danielle glanced above the seat and barely had time to see the two assault rifles sticking out of black tinted windows before more gunfire made her duck back down. For a moment she sat, panting, considering her options, then she began to move.

  
  


Krista saw her friend go into a sudden flurry of motion even as she tried to keep watching in front of them. Cursing aloud, she screamed, "Danielle, what are you doing?"

  
  


Danielle didn't answer. Ducking down, she scrabbled on the floor for her gun, then turned it on and resumed her crouch until it was fully warmed up. Swallowing her terror, she raised her head, bent low over the seat, and returned fire, aiming for the speeder's black-tinted windows. It was hard to get a good aim on anything as they careened crazily along, so few of her shots even came close to their mark, despite her best efforts. Her counterattack hardly seemed to phase their opponents: the quantity of shots increased if anything, and Krista yelped as one singed her sleeve.

  
  


Obviously, more drastic measures were needed. For a moment Danielle was too paralyzed to move, then something other than fear rushed through her veins and she remembered that she was training to be a Jedi, one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy. Still holding the gun in one hand, she slowly stood up on the seat and took advantage of her uninhibited sight to fire mercilessly. When she took out one of the side windows, the pursuing speeder arced wildly, and she took the opportunity to drop the gun, then draw and ignite her lightsaber, holding it ready in front of her. Its hum was comforting in her hands, and the vivid blue glow spilled all around her.

  
  


"Danielle!"

  
  


"Keep driving!" she shouted.

  
  


The speeder had come back for another pass, but this time, when the shots began raining toward them, Danielle opened her mind to the Force. Almost of its own will, her lightsaber began moving, deflecting the shots back at the oncoming vehicle. A few got through her guard, but the majority she managed to safely ward off, enabling Krista to drive normally.

  
  


As the speeder was forced to draw back to avoid her deflected shots, Krista slowly began to pull ahead, gaining them more ground. For a moment, Danielle felt triumph rise in her throat--then she heard Krista cry out. "Danielle, get down!"

  
  


Danielle instantly leapt down into a sitting position--just in time, as a volley of bolts from the opposite direction shredded the air where she'd been a moment ago. "There's another one!" Krista screamed. "They came from the other way--they've cut us off--!"

  
  


As Krista's words dissolved into more enraged curses at their attackers, Danielle tried to figure out the best plan of action. She could deflect shots from one direction, but she lacked the skill to do it from two. Disengaging her saber, she pulled out her gun once more. "Go straight for the one ahead of us," she told a horrified Krista. "They're blocking our only exit. Act like you're going to ram them, then pull over them."

  
  


"Then what?" Krista yelled back, obviously skeptical.

  
  


Danielle closed her eyes and prayed. "You'll see."

  
  


Krista hit the accelerator once more as Danielle began firing directly at the speeder they now charged toward. Not expecting such a bold move, the enemy speeder slowed down warily, then came to a complete stop, continuing to fire on them.

  
  


Krista continued to aim straight at the other speeder, and it remained stoically in place. Dropping her gun, Danielle ducked as a blaster bolt went right over her head, then gripped her lightsaber firmly in hand and waited.

  
  


The speeder behind them pulled away as it seemed a collision was imminent. Danielle waited until what she knew to be the absolute last moment, then shouted, "NOW!"

  
  


She stood up again as Krista pulled up sharply, missing the other speeder so narrowly they almost grated against one another. In the brief moment that they were directly over the other, Danielle saw that this speeder had a wide, flat roof--then, without further preamble, she threw herself over the edge.

  
  


She barely registered Krista's scream of, "DANIELLE!" as she sailed through the air. Before her feet hit the roof her lightsaber was ignited in her hand, and as soon as the landed she swung downward, the metal immediately hissing and parting around the laser blade. She nearly lost her balance as the speeder jerked into life again, but another slash from her blade opened a hole into the speeder, and she slashed inside mercilessly.

  
  


The drivers inside screamed and ducked, so the blow merely bit into the steering equipment in front of them, searing deep into a control panel. Alarms instantly began flashing, and Danielle threw herself backward in time to deflect the shots coming from the other speeder, now bearing toward her at an alarming pace. They drew so close she could have reached out and slashed their windows as well, then passed her and had to turn around for another sweep.

  
  


As they were looping around, one of the men inside the speeder she stood on threw himself up through the hole, firing. Danielle danced back again, deflecting his shots, and he finally hesitated. She instantly seized the moment to knock the gun out of his hand with a roundhouse kick, and he scrambled backward. She menaced him with her lightsaber, but rather than submit to her he threw himself over the edge of the car, choosing to fall into the endless fathoms below.

  
  


Danielle heard the roar of an engine and knew the other speeder was almost in range again. If it and the remaining men in her speeder synchronized their efforts, she was toast. With one last parting blow at those still inside, she ran to the edge of the speeder, waited a moment, then threw herself off.

  
  


For an endless moment she was freefalling, then her boots slammed into her own speeder as Krista swung by on another pass, simultaneously driving and shooting at the windows.

  
  


Danielle disengaged her lightsaber and held on for dear life as Krista flung them forward, trying desperately to outrun the remaining enemy speeder. Danielle gathered her wits enough to return fire once more, but as they turned a corner she heard a high-pitched squealing, then a series of short explosions. "Krista, they've hit the engines!" she yelled.

  
  


"What do we do now?"

  
  


Danielle searched the area around them frantically, then pointed. "Fly us over that roof, and when I say so, jump!"

  
  


In the back, Sweetums roared, obviously displeased with this whole business, and Danielle managed to convey to him to follow her when she leapt. The engine whine growing louder still and the steering mechanism beginning to shake under Krista's hands, they arced desperately toward the sole low roof.

  
  


Danielle gathered her weapons and stood unsteadily, and Krista did the same. Maneuvering them as low as was safely possible, Krista instantly slammed the accelerator back to a crawl as Danielle shouted, "Now!" The two girls and the Nexu flung themselves from the still-moving vehicle onto the roof that was about six feet below the bottom of their speeder, hitting hard and rolling. The speeder, driver-less, crashed into the roof several dozen yards ahead of them, the engine exploding with a strangely anticlimactic tongue of flame.

  
  


Staggering to her feet, Danielle threw her lightsaber up in time to deflect a fierce volley from the remaining speeder as Krista, crouching behind her, grabbed Danielle's gun and fired back. When the speeder, instead of swerving away, continued to come straight at them, Krista cried, "Run!" and the three took off in the opposite direction, Danielle still deflecting over her shoulder as she ran and Krista pausing occasionally to fire another round.

  
  


The speeder ground to a stop, and suddenly a dozen black-clad figures spilled out, firing. Danielle and Krista exchanged horrified glances but kept running . . . only to realize that there was nowhere to run. Backed up against the edge of the building, they made a stand, Danielle guarding them as Krista tried to fire back.

  
  


Sweetums, unhappy at being left out of the fight, leapt into the fray with a roar, and Danielle used the minor chaos this caused to leap forward, lightsaber flashing as she attacked the men directly. She didn't want to kill any of them, so she aimed her blows as best she could to disarm or injure, and keep from having that happen to herself. Her blue blade flowed like a continuous stream of light, so quickly did she move it. Krista, far from merely watching, took advantage of the attention being focused on Danielle to fire with deadly accuracy into the crowd.

  
  


Things seemed to be going well enough until Sweetums gave a great cry of pain, reeling backward and yipping unhappily. "Sweetums!" Danielle screamed, her eyes flashing murderously; in the lull, Krista moaned, "Danielle, there's another one!"

  
  


Danielle resumed motion even more quickly than before, her eyes dark with rage, and hacked her way back to Krista's side. Gesturing for her friend to follow, she took off along the roof's edge, Sweetums limping painfully after them, as the third black speeder settled down on the roof.

  
  


Danielle ran as close as she could to the edge that connected to a nearby building as possible before they were cut off, and she swirled into these new opponents with sheer desperation. She heard Krista cry out behind her as her gun was shot from her hand, and Danielle realized dimly that the others weren't trying to kill them: they seemed to want them alive, and as unharmed as possible. She paused fighting to glance back at her friend, then realized in horror that they were completely surrounded. There was no way she could deflect from all sides.

  
  


For a moment they stood there, gasping for air and glaring daggers, before one of the black-clad and masked figures ordered, "Drop your weapon, Jedi!"

  
  


Danielle held its gaze for as long as possible, waiting for it to raise its weapon and threaten her; only then did she disengage and lower her blade.

  
  


"Remember: do not harm the girls!" another ordered. "Kill the beast and take their weapons, but do not hurt them!"

  
  


Danielle cried out as they raised their weapons to point at an injured Sweetums, thinking frantically what she could do to stop them--then, out of nowhere, there was the roar of an engine, and everyone turned in astonishment to see another speeder land on the roof beside them . . . and two brown-cloaked figures leapt from it, blue and green lightsabers engaged and humming.

  
  


Danielle nearly sobbed in relief as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon swirled into the fray, effortlessly deflecting the enemy's fire. The black-clad men turned to face this new threat and Danielle called her lightsaber back to her hand, attacking them again and trying to lead them away from Krista and Sweetums. Despite her burnt hand, Krista dove for her gun and with a pained grimace began firing once more, trying to cover Danielle as best she could.

  
  


As fast and as graceful as Danielle was, Obi and Qui put her to shame. They sliced through the guards effortlessly, working side by side as an efficient and deadly team. She'd always known they were good, but to see them like this, eyes so fierce, their blows so swift and flawless . . . it made her feel astonished and strangely surreal to realize that she actually knew them, lived with them. 

  
  


Now up against two more fully trained Jedi, the black-clad men soon found themselves outmatched, and it was their turn to flee. Within minutes there were only a handful of them left, and the four defenders backed them up against the edge of the building. "Hold!" Qui-Gon said, his voice fiercer than Danielle had ever heard it. "If you drop your weapons, we will see that you are unharmed."

  
  


The five remaining men exchanged pointed glances, then dropped their weapons. "This isn't over," one said darkly, looking at Danielle and Krista. "We will find you, and everything will be restored. It's only a matter of time before we send you where you belong!"

  
  


When Obi-Wan stepped forward threateningly, Danielle didn't even have time to shout a warning before they all threw themselves backward over the edge of the building.

  
  


The foursome ran forward to watch in astonishment as they plunged downward . . . but, before they dwindled out of sight, a pair of wings complete with jet-pack unfolded on each and every one, enabling them to maneuver to safety.

  
  


Danielle turned to face Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon and instantly found herself strangled. "You're all right!" Obi-Wan gasped, his arms like steel bands around her. "By the Force, you're all right! When we felt your distress, your fear, we thought we were too late--we were certain something terrible had already happened . . ."

  
  


Danielle returned his hug fiercely. "It would have, if you two hadn't shown up with such perfect timing." Obi-Wan released her, and she gave Qui-Gon the same fierce hug as Obi-Wan instantly moved to help Krista with her injured hand.

  
  


"Oh, little one," Qui-Gon murmured, holding her close, "you did so well. I was so terrified for you, but you fought like a true Jedi. I'm so glad I gave you that lightsaber--and I should never have sent you out alone, not after what happened the other night! I knew there was something going on! I blame myself entirely."

  
  


Danielle pulled free and looked at him in astonishment. "Don't be ridiculous, Qui. You couldn't have known. This was . . . this was unreal."

  
  


She glanced back at Krista, who had just allowed Obi-Wan to heal her hand and was now giving him a hug of thanks as well. Seeing her Nexu whining softly, she cried, "Sweetums!" and hurried to his side. Examining the black welts on him, she cried, "He's been shot . . . he needs medical attention!"

  
  


"I'll call an emergency vehicle immediately," Qui-Gon assured her, striding back toward his speeder.

  
  


"Who were those guys, Danielle?" Krista asked, cradling her newly healed hand and eyeing Obi-Wan with awe.

  
  


"We can always search their speeders," she indicated the two parked vehicles they had abandoned, "but I doubt they were stupid enough to leave anything inside to tell us who they were." Stroking Sweetums' head gently and cooing soothing phrases to him, she waited until the Nexu was making little yips of contentment before she turned again. "Did you recognize them at all, Obi-Wan?"

  
  


Hooking his lightsaber back onto his belt, he shook his head. "No. But they were very determined to capture you--you must have noticed they didn't want you killed."

  
  


"I did," Danielle agreed. "And they were very well prepared. We were lucky to last long enough for you two to get here."

  
  


"Not lucky," Krista said. "Skilled. Danielle . . . that was freaking amazing. You looked like a real Jedi out there, babe. I was proud to know you."

  
  


Danielle smiled at her in return. "Look who's talking. You'd think you've been the driver of a getaway car before, Krista."

  
  


Obi-Wan didn't seem to notice that Danielle was pronouncing Kristae's name strangely. "Whoever they were, and whatever they want from you, we will find them," he said firmly. "They won't be allowed to get away with this. But there's nothing we can do at the moment. We have to report to the Council."

  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  


The emergency vehicle had arrived for Sweetums and taken him away, gently but firmly refusing to allow Danielle to go with him. They'd given the speeders a perfunctory search, then decided the Council would be able to send a more thorough team later. Piling everyone into their speeder, they'd headed back to the Temple.

  
  


Upon arriving, however, they found the Temple to be in a great furor as well. In the main entrance, two very bedraggled Jedi that Danielle and Krista had never seen before were arguing loudly with a group of Masters. There was a great deal of arm-waving and yelling for Jedi, even between the two newcomers. Off to the side, carrying, of all things, a herd of balloons and what looked like cotton candy, was another girl, watching the proceedings with an insanely huge smile on her face.

  
  


Catching sight of the girl, Krista froze in place, causing Qui-Gon to run into her from behind. Danielle, listening to the argument, took a few minute to realize that Krista wasn't moving, but not why.

  
  


Ahead of them, the discussion continued unabated. "Things were going fine," the female Jedi was saying, "until we realized we were being pursued and had to lose them in a different sector. Our ship crashed in the middle of a fairground, and we spent four bloody hours being chased by a whole herd of Ixian's goons all over the haunted house, on rides, in the fairground--"

  
  


"All of which could have been avoided," the man cut her off with a drawl, "if any of us had the wits to realize we were only about five blocks from the Temple and could have made it here on foot if we so chose."

  
  


The girl chose this moment to butt in. "But that wouldn't have been nearly so much fun, would it?"

  
  


The sound of her voice caused Danielle's head to whip around sharply, and she stared at the girl in a blend of fascination and disbelief. She was wet, extremely filthy, dressed in strange robes, and suddenly possessing hair of an entirely new color, but there was no mistaking her. "Oh my God," Danielle breathed.

  
  


Krista managed to recover her wits first. Completely forgetting that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon existed, she strode forward, Danielle hot on her heels, until they were only an arm's length from the girl, who remained oblivious to their presence.

  
  


After several minutes, Krista found the nerve to speak. "Annie?"

  
  


The girl turned, surprised, to look at them . . . and her jaw hit the floor. "K-krista?" she stammered. Glancing over Krista's shoulder, she wheezed, "Danielle?"

  
  


For a moment they all stared at each other. Then, without warning, they all moved simultaneously, and an incredibly messy and disorganized group hug ensued.

  
  


Amidst the babbling and incoherent rambles only a few sentences could be made out, but they soon pulled back, grinning insanely.

  
  


"I don't believe this," Annie said for probably the tenth time. "I thought that I was the only one here. You guys . . . you guys are here . . . wow. Well, here are all three of us--" She froze, suddenly going pale.

  
  


"What?" Danielle asked, surprised.

  
  


"Well, here are we three," Annie said. "But . . . weren't there four of us?"

  
  


For a moment no one spoke as the truth dawned on all of them. Then, when they did speak, it was at the same time.

  
  


"Where's Laura?"


	13. Apple?

A/N: Oh my God! An update in less than two months! IT'S A MIRACLE! (And it also came very near to not happening when I was unable to get this chapter to load properly on the correct computer . . . grrr.) As always, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed! It's like giving money to one of those scary Santas who stand outside malls during the holidays! It makes me update sooner, as you can plainly see.

  
  


I apologize for this chapter also being insanely long and having a looooot of talking in it, but my girls need to start figuring out what's going on so the story can progress. Besides, I tried my hardest to make it entertaining, so give it a read. But beware . . . we are developing more of a plot even as I type . . .

  
  


Enjoy!

  
  


(Soundtrack: Os Quindos de Ya Ya, Clubbed to Death, and Anakin's Theme)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


THIRTEEN

  
  
  
  
  
  


The three girls stared at one another, openly astonished.

  
  


"Danielle! Kristae!" The two turned at Obi-Wan's worried tone. "What are you--" He stopped short as he caught sight of Annie and said morosely, "Oh. I see."

  
  


Annie's eyes went wide as she stared at the shockingly young and corporeal Jedi. "Oh my God, Obi-Wan . . . you're alive!"

  
  


He stared at her. "Is there any reason I shouldn't be?"

  
  


Annie stared at him for a little while, then she gave him a breathless smile. "Oh, no. None at all. It's just . . . the last time I saw you . . ." She trailed off, then without further warning threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug, balloons and cotton candy and all. He was too stunned to do anything but take it, and when she drew back she was smiling stupidly. "Sorry. It's just . . . good to be able to touch you."

  
  


Krista snickered evilly at the expression on the young Jedi's face. "Okaaaay," he replied, obviously deciding to just take it in stride. "Let me guess--you know these two young ladies from some mysterious past life."

  
  


Annie glanced at Danielle and Krista, and identical smiles blossomed on all their faces. "I suppose you could say that," she agreed.

  
  


"Well, may I extend to you the hospitality of the Jedi Temple? Our room could always hold one more person."

  
  


Danielle stared at him like he'd gone mad. "You're offering to let someone stay with us?"

  
  


He shrugged, looking both pleased with himself and world-weary. "Well, I knew you were going to invite her anyway and I wouldn't be able to say no, so I figured I might as well pretend it's happening on my own terms."

  
  


"Smart man," Annie said, impressed.

  
  


A shout from up front distracted them. "Hey, Annie!" Dru called. "Get up here and tell these people we're not crazy!"

  
  


Annie rolled her eyes. "Sorry, guys, I guess we have to catch up later. Dru calls." She started to leave, then paused and said, "Here, guys, have one!" and happily gave them a balloon each, even a bemused Obi-Wan. Giving them a little wave, she departed, trailing balloons after her, to where her own Jedi waited.

  
  


Danielle and Krista exchanged glances, then turned to follow Obi and Qui to their own Council debriefing.

  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  


Later, in the apartment, after the various debriefings and negotiations were through, the three girls sat around the table exchanging stories. Annie had changed into cleaner and more comfortable Temple attire and deposited her balloons in the living room for Gumbi to play with, but she still munched happily on her sugary confection. Danielle, who lived in a constant state of hunger, was munching contentedly on a bag of pretzel-like snacks as Krista, booted feet propped on the table, sank her teeth into a juicy apple.

  
  


The conversation had yet to take a serious turn.

  
  


"I still can't believe you were a diva!"

  
  


Annie gave a brilliant smile and fluttered her lashes with practiced ease. "Yeah, like you're one to talk, Ms. Jedi! And Krista the handmaiden--I'm still not used to that idea."

  
  


"And it looks like we've all had run-ins with unusual villains for Star Wars. We saw the guy in the Temple first, then those black ops dudes--they said something about 'sending us back where we belong'." Krista shook her apple for emphasis. "That sounds a lot like that guy on Tatooine, with all his knowing who you are crud. It's all getting kinda creepy."

  
  


Danielle was the most concerned of the three. "Guys, this is serious. Remember how we had trouble thinking about how we got here, Krista? And before you showed up, it didn't even occur to me to try. But now that Annie's here, I remember it nearly perfectly." She sighed. "It stands to reason that when we find Laura, we'll remember everything."

  
  


"Excuse me?" Annie said tentatively. When they both looked at her, she sighed. "It's just . . . you said 'when' like it's a sure thing, and I didn't know--"

  
  


Krista shrugged. "Well, we've all found each other. Stands to reason Laura will show up in a few days. Besides, she's always late."

  
  


"Maybe," Annie said slowly. "But it's a big galaxy. The fact that we found each other is . . . well, really, really lucky. And wasn't it a few months before Krista showed up, Danielle?"

  
  


"Only two for me," Krista said when Danielle nodded.

  
  


"Then, when I showed up, how long had you been with Danielle?"

  
  


"Just over a month."

  
  


Annie tilted her head to the side. "What I'm saying is that even if Laura does show up, we have no idea when that will be. It could be today, tomorrow . . . or ten years from now. We might not even still be alive then."

  
  


Krista stared at her, alarmed. "Why shouldn't we be?"

  
  


"Come on." She made an emphatic gesture with her cotton candy. "I've barely escaped with my life so many times I've lost track, and now you guys and this latest attack--you can't tell me you aren't starting to get worried."

  
  


"I didn't really think about any of it having to do with our being here," Danielle said at last. "I never really linked the two. But I guess this makes one thing clear: it's time we started trying to figure this whole mess out. Just surviving isn't enough anymore; we need to try and find out what, exactly, is going on."

  
  


"How are we supposed to do that?" Krista demanded. "We still barely fit in here as it is. We don't know where to look for this kind of thing or who we could even trust to ask. Besides, these necklaces, just like us, are from Earth. Why would anyone here know anything about them?"

  
  


"But are they?" Danielle asked. When Krista and Annie just stared at her, she tugged hers free and presented it for inspection. "Look. The picture on my necklace? It's the symbol of the Jedi. Where did I first end up in Star Wars?" She waved around herself, sending a few pretzels scattering. Gumbi, who had recently entered, instantly swooped down and ate them. "The Jedi Temple. And I *am* a Jedi here. Makes sense, doesn't it?"

  
  


Annie looked at her own necklace in surprise. "Mine is a sun . . . and I ended up on Tatooine, as a native. That's pretty appropriate."

  
  


"And my flower sent me to Naboo as a handmaiden," Krista agreed. "We all had lives and pasts made for us--even you, Danielle. No one we've met so far knew *who* you are, but they found you unconscious in the street. Maybe you really are someone here, and we just don't know who yet."

  
  


"Okay, so we all have pasts and a place according to our necklaces," Annie said slowly. "And when I was in the Imperial Base, on Tatooine, that scary guy grabbed my necklace and ripped it off--and that was what sent me back in time. When I woke up, I was in this time instead of the future. Which was really confusing for a while."

  
  


"And," Danielle added, "the necklaces are what give us our abilities. Unless I'm touching or wearing mine, I'm not a Jedi. And Krista isn't exactly a Jedi, but she has some skills, too."

  
  


Annie looked surprised. "So is that why I can see the future? Because of the necklace?"

  
  


"It's starting to look like everything is because of these," Krista said, examining hers critically. "I mean, Laura giving them to us is the last clear thing I can remember. Stands to reason they're why we're here in the first place."

  
  


"Magic necklaces," Danielle said, having trouble not laughing. "Well, that's just typical."

  
  


"Magic necklaces found by Laura, no less," Annie grinned, finishing off the last of her cotton candy. "Why doesn't it surprise me that this whole mess is her fault?"

  
  


As Annie sadly discarded the stick her candy had been on, Danielle chuckled. "You know, I bet she's not even here. She's probably at home, sitting at Panera and eating, oblivious to the fact that the three of us had disappeared."

  
  


Krista reached into the bowl for another apple. "That does sound like something Laura would do. Funny ol' world, idn it?" She offered her fruit to Annie with a serpentine smile. "Apple?"

  
  


As Annie reached out and accepted it, grinning evilly, the opening of the door forestalled any further conversation. "Hello, ladies," Qui-Gon said cheerfully, leading the way. "We've returned from our meeting with the council, and--" Seeing Annie, he stopped short. "Oh," he said, surprised. "Another one?"

  
  


Krista smirked at the wariness in his tone. "Qui-Gon, meet Annie," she introduced them. "She'll be staying with us . . . for a while. Obi-Wan invited her," she added out of sheer maliciousness. When Qui-Gon turned to look at his apprentice in surprise, Obi threw up his hands in frustration.

  
  


Trying to prevent any potential badness, Danielle spoke before anyone else could. "So, how did the report go? What does the Council have to say?"

  
  


Obi-Wan looked annoyed. Slouching down into a chair, he put his chin in his hands as Qui-Gon spoke calmly. "We need to be cautious and alert. Obviously these people are trained professionals and until we know who they are and what they want, you two especially should always be on your guard."

  
  


"Basically," Obi-Wan summarized, "nothing. They don't know what's going on any more than we do."

  
  


Danielle and Krista exchanged worried glances. "The Jedi Council doesn't know any more than we do?" Danielle said at last. "Does that bother anyone else?"

  
  


"Me for one," Obi-Wan agreed. "This isn't like them. When we told them our report, they all looked surprised to hear it, and they clearly didn't even know what to say at first. Yoda especially looked troubled."

  
  


"I don't know," Qui-Gon said thoughtfully. "I think this is all just more to do with the recent political unrest in the Senate. The speeders they were using were extremely new--someone very wealthy must be backing them. I definitely think we should look at the various political groups."

  
  


Obi-Wan stood. "And, having said that, I'm going to go change into something slightly less dirty and grab something to eat. I'll be back in a bit."

  
  


He exited with a wave. Qui-Gon, standing, nodded at them formally. "I also have some small matters to attend to," he said calmly. "I need to speak to Master Yoda. I trust you'll be all right, Danielle?"

  
  


She smiled. "Of course. Take care, Qui."

  
  


"And yourself." He, too, departed, leaving the three girls alone in the kitchen.

  
  


In the wake of their departure, Danielle looked thoughtful. "I'm mostly confused, but I bet Qui-Gon's right. This is about the right time for us to start having troubles in the Senate and such. They must be starting plans to target all the Jedi."

  
  


"No."

  
  


They both looked at Annie in surprise as she raised her head, expression uncharacteristically grim. "This isn't happening because of unrest in the Senate," she said calmly. "It's us."

  
  


For a moment there was silence. Danielle went slowly pale and Krista's eyes widened incredulously. "Us?" she asked, surprised.

  
  


Annie shot them a sloe-eyed glance. "Yes. I was out on Tatooine--just about as far from Coruscant and galactic politics as it's possible to be--and I met the same bad guys . . . people . . . whatever out there." She shook her head. "The only common link I can find is the three of us."

  
  


"What's so important about the three of us?" Krista asked, surprised. Danielle said nothing, her expression thoughtful.

  
  


"Don't you see?" Annie said, her voice growing more urgent. "We're not here because of some coincidence or joke. We're here for a *reason*. Just because we don't know what it is yet doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Someone out there brought us here, and now they're either trying to collect us or someone else is trying to stop us."

  
  


Danielle met her eyes clearly, beginning to understand, as Krista folded her arms in denial. "Maybe all that's true, but why bring *us* here in the first place? What makes us different from anyone else?"

  
  


"Well, here Danielle is a Jedi, and from what you've told me, she can do stuff even other Jedi can't. I see the future when it's really important. Krista--Danielle told me you're telekinetic."

  
  


"Only some of the time," Krista muttered.

  
  


"I'm guessing that's why these people want us," Danielle picked up the narrative. "But what are we supposed to be doing?"

  
  


No one had the answer to that. At least, not a practical answer, at any rate.

  
  


"I think the first thing we should do is try to find Laura," Krista said at last. "We may have found each other on our own, but Annie had some good points earlier. We can't afford to wait very much longer--and who knows where she could be? Besides," she affected a pout, "I miss my big buddy."

  
  


"I agree," Danielle said decisively. "Finding Laura should be our priority, and then we need to figure out how we got here and how we get home."

  
  


"That's a great plan," Annie said, "but we don't have any idea where she is. It could take forever to find her, and we don't even know where to start."

  
  


Krista raised her hand. "Everyone who thinks she's in Buffy?"

  
  


Danielle snorted in spite of herself and Annie looked amused. "That wouldn't be fair," she pointed out. "The rest of us are here, so she probably is too."

  
  


"I showed up on Naboo," Krista said thoughtfully. "Danielle, you were here, and Annie was on Tatooine. What do those three places have in common?"

  
  


"They're all in Star Wars," Annie said, unhelpfully.

  
  


"Thank you, Annie, I think we knew that," Danielle said drily. "But at least that tells us the odds are pretty good Laura's here in Star Wars with us, so we can rule out everywhere else like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, et cetera. What else?"

  
  


Krista shrugged. "People knew who we were, except for you, and we fit in well enough after a while."

  
  


"I've been in a lot of mortal peril," Annie said drily. "What about you guys?"

  
  


Danielle shook her head. "I wasn't really in any trouble until--until Krista showed up," she said, remembering. "Then it just went downhill from there." She paused thoughtfully. "Isn't that always the case?"

  
  


"I wasn't in any trouble except for the whole evil Prince business," Krista added. "So that kinda rules that out."

  
  


"Not necessarily," Annie said, obviously thinking hard. "I think that the amount of peril isn't a factor by itself--I think it just has to do with the place where we showed up, and that's what's important."

  
  


"Wait a minute," Danielle said. "The places we showed up--we'd heard of all of them. They were all in the movies."

  
  


"That's right!" Krista exclaimed. "Whoa, does that mean Star Wars only exists to the extent that it was displayed in the movies, or maybe in George Lucas' mind?"

  
  


"Well, not the movie option, because I've certainly been places and met people that weren't in the movies," Annie said drily. "Not to mention sung some really un-Star Wars-y songs."

  
  


Krista's eyes grew huge. "Do you suppose our being here is corrupting Star Wars? Like, making it more like our world?"

  
  


Everyone thought about this for a moment, then Danielle shook her head. "Okay, we're getting off topic. So we all showed up in places we'd heard of. That's got to be pretty important. What other places have we heard of?"

  
  


They looked at each other. "Endor," Krista finally came up with, and Annie supplied, "Yavin?"

"So not much," Danielle said, "unless the novels count, and has anybody seen anything so far to prove that?"

  
  


"Uh, I never read any of those," Krista said apologetically, and Annie added, "Me neither."

  
  


Danielle gave a huff of annoyance. "Laura's the only other one who has, and she's who we're trying to find. I guess we could search those places?"

  
  


"Who's Laura?"

  
  


The cheerful voice startled all of them, and they looked up to see Obi-Wan come in, looking freshly scrubbed. "Well met, ladies," he said cheerfully. "Are we all getting caught up?"

  
  


"Y-yes," Danielle stammered, hoping he hadn't heard too much.

  
  


"That's good. Who's this Laura person you were talking about?"

  
  


They all exchanged panicky glances. "She's . . . just an old friend of ours," Danielle said. "Of Annie's. From Tatooine. We figured since we're all here . . . it would be nice to meet up with her too."

  
  


"That's good," Obi-Wan said pleasantly. "Do you know how to reach her?"

  
  


"No," Danielle replied, relieved that he seemed to have bought the story. "That's what we were talking about."

  
  


The door opened, and again they all turned. To their great surprise, Qui-Gon strolled in, followed by two very familiar Jedi, who looked both exhausted and slightly annoyed. "Dru! Wes!" Annie exclaimed happily. "How are you?"

  
  


"Fine, thanks," Dru replied, beaming. She turned to Obi-Wan. "We've already introduced ourselves to your master, but I don't believe we've met you before. I'm Knight Dru Parsival, and this is my partner, Knight Wesley Roberts."

  
  


"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi," he returned, bowing in greeting. There was a bit more of that, then Wes and Dru exchanged a glance. "We're here to see Annie, actually," Wes confessed. "We'd planned to offer to let her stay with us--well, with Dru, actually--but it seems she's already found a home."

  
  


"I'm going to be staying here, yes," Annie admitted. "Thanks for the offer, Dru."

  
  


"Anytime, girl," Dru said cheerfully. "You saved all our hides back there, several times over. I've never seen anything like it before. I'd planned to get dibs on the prophet, but it looks like I missed my chance."

  
  


"How'd your debriefing go?" Annie asked.

  
  


Dru made a face. "Blech. We were told in no uncertain terms how very badly we messed up, how idiotic it was to get on Ixian's bad side, and how foolish the amount of time we spent romping around the carnival was, blah blah blah. We were interrogated endlessly about you, then, at last, congratulated on having escaped with the information we sought and our lives. Last but not least, we were told to go clean up and pack, because we've been reassigned."

  
  


Annie's jaw dropped. "Already? You just got back!"

  
  


"Funny, that's what we said," Wes said drily.

  
  


"Seems there's no rest for the wicked," Dru shrugged. "Anyway, we only get tonight to rest. We ship out tomorrow."

  
  


"Whatever for?" Annie asked, surprised.

  
  


"Apparently we're a little short on Knights at the moment, and there are several problems that need seeing to," Dru explained cheerfully. "There's a bit of a diplomatic hullabulloo on a little planet called Postel, out in the Outer Rim, and they want Wes to go watch over that. I'm being sent to a little waterworld a few sectors over. There's been some sort of confusion about a Master from the Council visiting and making certain requests the Council never had any intention of making, and they think it's best to send someone personally to smooth over the rough edges. So, yay for me! I get to go."

  
  


"Bummer," Annie said with feeling.

  
  


"I was hoping you could predict what was going to happen, spare me the trouble of going," Dru said playfully.

  
  


Qui-Gon frowned. "Predict . . . ?"

  
  


Dru blinked. "Oh, didn't I tell you? Our little friend is a bit of a prophet. She saved Wes' and my lives back on Tatooine twice over, then yet more in the carnival snafu. Quite a gift, really. The Council is intrigued."

  
  


Qui-Gon stared at Annie, who squirmed under his gaze. "I imagine," he said in surprise.

  
  


Obi-Wan looked at Dru thoughtfully. "So what exactly is this little planet you're being sent to?"

  
  


She waved a hand dismissively. "Eh, I can never remember its name. Something like . . . Cammo? Carmichael?" Her face screwed up in concentration, she continued to mumble and tick nonsensical names off on her fingers. "Cameo, Camisole, Contamination . . ."

  
  


Danielle's stomach flipped over. "Kamino?" she said quietly.

"That's the one!" Dru said happily. "Kamino! Little waterworld, big flying fish thingies, cloners, you know." She stopped and looked at Danielle. "I'm sorry, have we been introduced?"

  
  


"I'm Danielle," she said, "a kind of leech-on of Qui-Gon's. This," she gestured at an innocently beaming Krista, "is Kristae, a Nubian handmaiden."

  
  


"'Allo!" Krista said cheerfully.

  
  


"So you're going to Kamino," Danielle said. "That's . . . very interesting." She turned and gave meaningful looks to Annie and Krista.

  
  


It was unnecessary. Annie, her eyes huge with sudden knowledge, drew a deep breath. "This might seem slightly unexpected," she said slowly, "but . . . can I go with you?"

  
  


Dru stared at her blankly. "I beg your pardon?"

  
  


"I want to go with you. To Kamino."

  
  


"Why?"

  
  


This stumped Annie for a moment. "Just to get out a bit," she finally offered, rather feebly. "I'm a Tatooine girl, you know. I've always wanted to see so much water in one place."

  
  


That did it. Dru grinned hugely. "I hear ya, girl. Okay . . . I was told the mission was low maintenance, very little possibility of trouble. I'll need to clear it with the Council, but as far as I'm concerned, you're free to join me."

  
  


Annie decided to press her luck. "And Krista, too?"

  
  


Their exclamations were simultaneous. "What?"

  
  


"For . . . superior numbers," Annie said slowly, looking meaningfully at Krista. "Besides, you've always wanted to see Kamino." She paused, very deliberately. "Haven't you, Krista?"

  
  


Krista was confused, but she wasn't stupid. "Uh . . . that's right. Kamino. Woo yeah." She shot a wobbly smile at Dru, who was clearly equally confused. Abruptly, she frowned again. "Wait a minute. I have to testify, at the Prince's trial. I can't be gone for that!"

  
  


"We won't be gone that long," Annie said hastily. "It's still three weeks before the preliminary proceedings begin in the courtroom. You should be back in plenty of time."

  
  


Krista looked slightly miffed to lose this excuse. "Oh. Okay then. Looks like I'm going to Kamino." She paused, then glanced at Dru. "If that's all right with you, of course."

  
  


Dru shrugged, the motion setting her long black robes rippling. "That's no trouble, I guess. I can get a ship that holds three, and a handmaiden usually knows how to take care of herself."

  
  


"Damn straight," Krista said proudly.

  
  


"Well, that settles it then," Dru said after a pause. "Remember, we leave in the morning, so you'll need to pack your things and be ready. I'll clear it with the Council, and I need my beauty sleep, so unless I contact you again assume everything's all right. Until tomorrow, my friends." She bowed formally, then she and Wes departed.

  
  


Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were staring at them. "You're . . . leaving?" Obi-Wan said, surprised. "But, Annie . . . you've just arrived."

  
  


"I know," she said, glancing at them all sadly. "But this is . . . we need to do this."

  
  


"Do we?" Krista said, plainly still confused.

  
  


"Yes," Danielle agreed quietly. Her gaze was equally sorrowful as she looked at her friends. "But you'll come back as soon as possible, and you know where I'll be waiting."

  
  


The two Jedi exchanged glances. "Well, it's your decision, of course," Qui-Gon said diplomatically. "If you truly are going to rise early on the morrow, you'd best get to bed now. Annie--"

  
  


"I'll sleep on the couch," Danielle immediately offered. "Annie can share the bed with Krista."

  
  


"Very well," Qui-Gon said. "I'll see you ladies in the morning."

  
  


Clearly troubled by these abrupt new decisions, he and Obi-Wan made their farewells and departed.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Later that evening, when their flatmates were asleep, the three girls met quietly on the balcony.

  
  


"First of all," Krista said immediately, "please explain why exactly I'm going to Kamino."

  
  


"Don't you remember what we were talking about?" Danielle asked. "We all showed up in important places we'd heard about. Kamino is another one of those, and there can't be too many others. There's a really strong possibility Laura's there."

  
  


Krista blinked. "So we're going there to try and look for her? What do you suppose Dru will think of that?"

"Dru's a nice person," Annie said. "She'll let us bring her back with us."

  
  


Krista shook her head. "But if we both go, we're leaving Danielle here by herself. The bad guys obviously know they can find her here, and if we leave . . ."

  
  


"I'm pretty good at taking care of myself," Danielle said. "Besides, I have Obi and Qui. They're pretty useful in a fight."

  
  


"And that's another thing," Annie pointed out. "They know Danielle's here, but not that we're going to Kamino, so if they attack, it'll probably be Danielle."

  
  


Krista stared at them. "You're using her as *bait*? Okay, that may work in movies, but in real life it's just stupid. What if she's killed? Or captured?"

  
  


"You keep forgetting that this isn't real life," Danielle said irritably. "This is a movie. And I'll be fine, I promise."

  
  


"Can't promise something like that," Krista said sharply. "It's just . . . splitting up seems like a really bad idea for some reason. Together we stand, you know?"

  
  


"But for all of us to be together we need Laura," Annie reminded her. "It's not like we're never coming back. We're going, getting her, and coming straight back. Then we can figure out all of this. Savvy?" She grinned.

  
  


"All right," Krista said skeptically. "It just seems . . . to me . . ."

  
  


"Shhh," Danielle whispered suddenly, cutting her off. "Wait."

  
  


There was a pause as Annie and Krista stood frozen while Danielle moved slowly to the edge of the balcony and looked over. At last, Annie whispered, "What is it?"

  
  


"There's someone down there," Danielle breathed.

  
  


The other two girls joined her with equal caution, peering downward. "Are you sure?" Krista whispered.

  
  


Danielle looked irritated. "Yes, I'm sure."

  
  


She pointed, and the others followed the line of her arm to see a soft flicker of motion in the shadows, almost too brief to see.

  
  


"It's probably a Jedi," Krista whispered.

  
  


Danielle frowned, then closed her eyes and stretched out with her senses, reaching downward. After only a moment they snapped back open again, and there was mingled fear and rage in them. "That's no Jedi," she hissed.

  
  


Annie paled. "But what--?"

  
  


Krista, however, raised a fiery glance and headed purposefully toward the two sleeping Jedi within the apartment. "I'll go get--"

  
  


"No!" The other two girls stared at Danielle in shock, realizing how horrified she suddenly looked. "No, you can't do that!"

  
  


"Why?" Annie asked. "Danielle, what's going on?"

  
  


Danielle ripped off the cloak she'd been wearing to ward off the night's chill, revealing the lightsaber that was clipped to her belt at all times. "I'll explain later. For now, be quiet," she said officiously. "Don't let him know we're here. And *don't* wake up Qui and Obi."

  
  


"What are you doing?" Krista asked in astonishment.

  
  


"I'm going down there," she replied, and without further ado she vaulted over the edge of the balcony and dropped soundlessly to the shadows below.

  
  


"Danielle!" Krista cried in a strangled whisper. "Why, that stupid, pompous little--!" When Annie simply stared in astonishment, she struggled out of her jacket. "Come on!" she whispered.

  
  


"What are *you* doing?" Annie asked.

  
  


"Going after her, duh! She's going to get herself killed!"

  
  


"But she's a Jedi! The drop is too long for us. It'll break our legs!"

  
  


Krista gripped her pendant fiercely. "Not necessarily."

  
  


Annie stared at her. "What do you mean by--hey!" She tried to free her hand when Krista grabbed it, to no avail. "What do you think--KRISTA!"

  
  


This last verged dangerously on a shriek as Krista, still clamped firmly onto her hand, got up on the wall and jumped over, dragging an unwilling Annie with her.

  
  


There wasn't enough time to feel fear or doubt. Clutching Annie's hand in one hand and her pendant in the other, Krista closed her eyes and concentrated . . . and instead of the brutal impact that should have heralded their landing, she felt the rush of air slow, grow almost nonexistent . . . then stop completely.

  
  


Their toes gently met the earth, and Krista and Annie pulled their hands free and stared at each other.

  
  


Then, without further ado, they took off after Danielle.

  
  


Since she was trying to stalk her prey soundlessly, she wasn't far ahead, and as soon as they realized they were near they slowed to a silent pace and caught up.

  
  


Danielle was creeping along the shadows, disengaged hilt gripped in her hand, all her concentration focused on her prey. She never even noticed the other two girls sneaking up behind her until Annie reached out and touched her hesitantly on the shoulder.

  
  


The sudden touch from behind her was too much for Danielle; with a shriek, she whirled to face her supposed attackers, and Krista and Annie leapt back with twin cries of shock.

  
  


For a moment everybody froze; then, ahead of them, the shadowy figure suddenly broke into a sprint, and they all took off in pursuit.

  
  


It was clear from the beginning they were fighting a losing battle. None of the three girls were in bad shape, but neither did they have anywhere near the speed of their prey, who quickly left them behind as he scrambled through foliage and skidded around ponds and fountains, clearly heading for the garden wall. When it became clear that he was going to get away, Danielle, desperate, scooped up a rock and hurled it at him. It shattered into the garden wall just as he vaulted over the top, black robes flickering as he vanished from sight.

  
  


Gasping and panting, they all stared at where the other had disappeared. "Dammit," Krista cursed, frustration dripping from her words. "He got away."

  
  


"Not just yet," Danielle gritted. "Follow me!" She took off at a sharp angle to the right, leaping right over a low copse of bushes and heading for the nearest gate. Annie and Krista followed as best they could.

  
  


They reached the gate at a dead sprint, and Danielle used the Force to throw it open with her mind before she reached it. The three girls shot through, not bothering to shut the gate behind them, and emerged onto a walkway that diverged onto two separate paths. Unhesitating, Danielle launched herself down the left path which led to a nearby building, the same direction the other had gone.

  
  


The walkway was little more than a thin strip of metal, unbound by handrails, that stretched impossibly high above the seemingly bottomless drop below. The three girls traversed it without fear, barreling along it at dangerous speeds in pursuit of the other.

  
  


They'd just reached the building when, from above them, they heard the shriek of engines and looked up in time to see a black fighter shoot into the distance. "Hurry!" Danielle cried, and the three burst into the building, which turned out to be another hangar bay where numerous ships were parked.

Danielle sprinted across the room to the nearest, threw herself inside, then used the Force to get it running. Krista slid into the driver's seat and took off as Annie was still landing in the back, and the three rocketed out of the nearest entrance and into the night.

  
  


For all her recklessness, Krista drove incredibly swiftly, and within a matter of moments they were clear of the Temple and shooting into the night sky. "Where'd he go?" she yelled, slowing indecisively.

  
  


Danielle reached out to the Force, concentrated, and could feel nothing. As soon as she opened her mouth to tell Krista it was pointless, Annie said in a very strange voice, "Go up and over the roof of that building, arc hard into the alley on the other side, then take the first turn right." When they both just looked at her, she barked, "Now!"

  
  


Krista slammed the accelerator and the little speeder shot forward. Per Annie's instructions, she arced up over the roof of said building and into the alley, then made a sharp right--only to nearly collide with the dark craft they'd been chasing.

  
  


Krista didn't need any further instructions to follow the craft. Face grim, she kept as close on its tail as she could until Annie gasped a warning at the same time Danielle cried, "Swerve right!"

  
  


Krista yanked the steering mechanism to the right and the ship rolled to the side just as a hail of projectiles released from the back of the craft ahead of them and sliced through the air where they'd been moments ago.

  
  


"He's firing on us!" Danielle yelled helpfully, and Krista shouted, "I noticed!"

  
  


Rolling back behind the other fighter, Krista was unprepared for the other to jerk right, forcing her to nearly smack into the wall of a nearby skyscraper in order to follow.

  
  


"This guy really knows what he's doing," she panted, managing to get back on course and continue her pursuit. "If he doesn't land soon, he's going to lose me!"

  
  


As if in answer to her statement, the craft suddenly dropped three levels lower than the three girls were flying; then, before Krista had time to adjust, turned the opposite direction and disappeared down an adjacent street. Krista eventually managed to follow, but when she pulled into the street, the other had vanished.

  
  


"No!" Krista howled, beating on the steering wheel in frustration. "Where'd he go?"

  
  


Annie tensed up suddenly, her eyes clouding over, and then with a little shudder she returned to herself. "Two right turns from here, he'll pull into an abandoned hangar bay," she informed a stunned Krista. "We can catch him if you go now."

  
  


Krista didn't need telling twice. Kicking the speeder into gear again, she arced in the indicated direction, turned right, and immediately pulled into the hangar bay, settling the small speeder on the ground.

  
  


Danielle and Annie leapt out before the ship even finished powering down, and Krista was right behind them. They could see the empty ship some distance to their right, but there was no sign of its driver. There was, however, a tunnel leading further within the building, the only possible escape route, and the three girls ran toward it as one.

  
  


Through the doorway the light instantly began to fade, and the girls almost immediately found themselves plunged into total darkness. Danielle stopped running first, and Krista, lacking eyesight keen enough to see in the dark, smacked into her from behind. Annie slowed, eyes wide, as she tried to penetrate the absolute blackness. "Okay, this isn't cool."

  
  


"Danielle, can you sense him?" Krista asked, voice betraying her fear.

  
  


Danielle, eyes closed and all senses extended, didn't bother to answer. She stepped forward, tension vibrating from her, her heartbeat hammering in her ears so loudly it was difficult to concentrate. She took one wary step . . . another . . . then froze. For a moment she stood motionless, feeling the air crackle around her, then slowly raised her lightsaber and ignited it, opening her eyes as well. The brilliant blue glow cut through the darkness, illuminating the area a few meters around her, and giving Annie and Krista an eerie view of her determined face and a faint gleam from her dark hair.

  
  


From her left there was a faint rustle, and she pivoted immediately to face it. "I know you're there," she said, fighting to keep her voice from shaking. "I can feel you. We won't allow you to escape."

  
  


There was a strange rasping noise, then an incredibly deep voice said, "Leave this place, Jedi. I have work to do here."

  
  


Danielle stepped forward once more, extending her blade slightly, and its glow stretched to outline faintly the dark robes of another figure, directly ahead of her. The picture she painted should have been ridiculous: a bespectacled teenage girl in pyjamas facing a shadowy figure of nightmare. Something in her stance, however, made no allowances for humor. "Never."

  
  


For a moment there was no response; then, they heard an eerily familiar snap-hiss, and a crimson lightsaber distorted the blackness.

  
  


Annie drew in a breath of horror as Krista stumbled backward, speechless. Danielle held her ground, lightsaber unwavering in her grasp, even as she knew she'd never been more terrified in her life. "I won't let you go free, Sith," she said quietly.

  
  


"Then you leave me no choice, Jedi." The other figure stepped forward, and now Danielle could see the outline of his dark clothing fully, dark eyes gleaming from within the shadows of his hood. Slowly he extended his lightsaber until the crackling red blade touched Danielle's azure, emitting a shower of sparks. They stood like that for a moment, swords and gazes locked; then the Sith moved, and Danielle did as well.

  
  


For the two girls watching, the outcome of the battle inevitable. Danielle had grace and the Force, but she'd only been training a few months. Her opponent had clearly studied swordplay far longer than that. Their movements were eerie to behold, the searing brightness of the swords vivid against the darkness and hands and faces gleaming in the reflected light, but the course of the battle was still easy enough to follow.

  
  


The Sith moved his blade, almost lazily, and Danielle hastily parried; a feint, then a thrust she had to leap back to avoid. She tried to mount an attack of her own, beginning a beat-lunge combination, but the Sith swirled to the side and slipped under her guard, lightsaber drawing a hissing line through the sleeve of her nightshirt as she cried out in surprise.

  
  


So it went, each exchange of blows resulting in some slight injury or humiliation to Danielle, until the Sith neatly cut a lock of her hair on a backhanded swing. Annie and Krista realized simultaneously that he was merely toying with her, extending the battle for some unknown purpose of his own.

  
  


Danielle fought well and she fought bravely, never breaking the Sith's gaze and never backing away from him, until the Sith clearly became tired of his game. At the end of a long series of parries he suddenly lunged forward, slashing his lightsaber downward, and Danielle screamed as the blade drew a searing line of fire down her arm. As she doubled over in agony, out of nowhere he lanced outward with one booted foot and knocked Danielle's lightsaber from her hand, disarming her effortlessly. As she gasped and lunged for it, the Sith extended a hand and a wave of Force rippled out from it, slamming into Danielle and sending her sprawling.

  
  


As she lay on the floor, waves of pain crashing over her while she struggled to rise on her uninjured arm, the Sith walked slowly over to her and looked down. As Danielle stared up at him, wide eyed with fear and the realization that she was about to die, he raised his lightsaber--

  
  


--and whirled in time to parry the sudden blow that came from behind him, blade crackling from the impact.

  
  


Before Danielle even had time to fully see what had happened the Sith was moving again, sword flashing as he engaged his new opponent. She sat up and peered around him to see Annie, her face alight with anger and fear for her friend, holding the lightsaber in a confident grip. As she countered the Sith's attacks, her feet moved with the ease and her wrist moved with the swiftness three years of fencing on Earth had given her.

  
  


Despite her skill, she did not have the Force, and it was clear she wouldn't last even as long as Danielle had. The moment she faltered, however, Krista was behind the Sith with an abandoned bit of pipe she'd found dropped on the floor and clocked him neatly on the head, sending him staggering away in shock.

  
  


Regaining his balance, the Sith stood in amazement, staring at the three girls as Danielle struggled to her feet and Annie and Krista menaced him with their makeshift weapons. "You get the hell away from us," Krista growled, even as the pipe shook in her hands. "And don't ever come back!"

  
  


For a moment he hesitated, clearly weighing his options, then disengaged his lightsaber and vanished into the shadowy depths of the building. Within seconds he had completely disappeared from view.

  
  


This time there was no thought of chasing him. Krista dropped her pipe and lunged, grabbing Danielle in time to keep her from hitting the floor as her knees gave way beneath her. Supporting her larger friend with difficulty, Krista asked frantically, "Oh my god, Danielle, are you all right? We have to get you back to the Temple, you have to see a healer--"

  
  


"No!" Gritting her teeth against the pain and humiliated by the tears of agony and frustration forming in her eyes, Danielle pulled free of Krista's supportive grip. "We can't see a healer at the Temple. I'll stop at a clinic on the way home."

  
  


The other two girls looked at her like she was insane. "Okay, Danielle, this has gone far enough," Krista said angrily. "You've been acting like a madwoman tonight--chasing after that Sith all by yourself, following him in the speeder, challenging him to a duel . . . and you wouldn't allow us to take you to a healer at the temple! What is going on?"

  
  


Danielle stood there, eyes closed, holding a hand to her temple. At last, voice unsteady, she whispered, "This can't be happening."

  
  


"Danielle!" Annie moved to join Krista at her side. "What's the matter?"

  
  


Danielle opened her eyes, and her expression was bleak. "I saw who it was," she whispered.

  
  


The other two girls exchanged strange looks. "And?" Annie said slowly.

  
  


Danielle held out her hand, and Annie returned her lightsaber. "You two saved my life," she said quietly. When they both refused to be diverted, she turned and looked away, the hand that gripped her lightsaber white-knuckled with strain. When she spoke, her voice was eerily calm, and the words unmistakable.

  
  


"It was Darth Maul."

  
  
  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  
  
  


Outside the public clinic, the three girls wearily returned to their speeder, Danielle unconsciously rubbing the long bandage on her arm.

  
  


"But how could it have been him?" Krista asked for the fourth time. "How could he have been here? Or in the Jedi Temple? Someone would have sensed him, surely."

  
  


"Don't you remember?" Danielle asked savagely. "In the Phantom Menace, nobody would even believe the Sith still existed. If someone thought they sensed him, they'd just shrug it off as their imagination . . . if they sensed it all. The Dark Side clouds their vision, remember?"

  
  


"Okay," Annie said tentatively, "I know you guys might be mad at me for this, but I don't know why you're so upset. Even if the events of the movie happen . . . I've been there. It's not so bad. And, hey! The good guys win, you know."

  
  


Danielle whirled, her eyes burning. "Don't you see, Annie? We're *in* Star Wars? We aren't going to get to just skip into the future when the war's about to be won. We're going to have to live through everything in between. The fall of the republic, Anakin's fall to the dark side . . . the Jedi Purge . . ." Her throat closed unexpectedly. "This galaxy is going to be hell on earth for about thirty years, and we're gonna get to live through it."

  
  


"Everything we love is going to be destroyed," Krista added. "And everyone we know is going to die. If Darth Maul is here . . ." She shook her head fiercely. "It can't be too long before the Trade Federation blockades Naboo and takes over Theed. That's *my* planet, Annie. I . . . I don't think I could handle that. And then . . ." To her disgust she felt tears forming in her eyes. "And then Qui-Gon will die." She looked back at her friends and her expression was hopeless. "We do all remember who kills him?"

  
  


Suddenly her earlier actions were more readily understandable. "That's why you wouldn't let me wake up Obi and Qui," Krista said quietly. "Because you know that if they face him--" She blanched.

  
  


Annie shook her head. "But we're here. Surely that's not all going to happen."

  
  


"Why not?" Danielle continued to walk, tension radiating from her. "What have we really changed by being here? People know who we are, sure, and we might have made a few little changes, but basically everything is still happening the same way it did in the movies, and we're not strong enough to stop it. And it won't just be Qui-Gon that will die. *Everybody* dies. The Purge . . . Vader kills them all, Annie. All the children I see everyday in the creche . . . all the masters . . . your Wes and Dru will die, you know, maybe even at Geonosis or sooner . . . *Obi-Wan* . . ."

  
  


Annie was clearly shaken by this. "I hadn't realized," she said at last.

  
  


"It's okay," Krista said wearily. "You were in the future, and none of that mattered to you. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were already dead then, so you're used to that. We've gotten a little attached to them, and everybody else."

  
  


"I understand," Annie said quietly. "But what can we do?"

"Find Laura," Danielle said without turning. "Bring her back here. When she's here, we'll remember everything. And we're obviously meant to all be together, so maybe when she's here we'll know what we're supposed to do. While you're gone I'll do everything I can to research our necklaces and try to keep the events of the Phantom Menace from taking place."

  
  


Krista walked up to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Danielle. There's got to be a reason we're here. There *has* to be something we can do. We won't let Obi and Qui die."

  
  


Danielle hesitated only a moment before turning to meet her eyes. "We'll try."

  
  
  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  
  
  


Their departure the next morning was unusually solemn.

  
  


Dru showed up just after dawn to pick up her two charges, who were waiting with their meager luggage in the hall, then waited while they said their goodbyes.

  
  


Krista hugged Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, surprising them both with her strange sincerity and lingering tellingly over Qui-Gon. Annie shook their hands with equal reserve, startling Obi-Wan with how long she remained looking at him afterward. Then both girls moved to embrace Danielle.

  
  


"Be back soon," Danielle whispered. "And take care of yourselves. Try not to do anything stupid, all right?"

  
  


Krista managed a grin. "What, us? When have we ever done anything stupid?"

  
  


"You be careful too," Annie said sternly. "Don't take any unnecessary risks. You're a Jedi, but you're not fully trained yet, and you're not immortal." At Danielle's expression, she hardened her voice. "I mean it, Danielle."

  
  


"I know." She stepped back. "I will."

  
  


In the silence, Krista suddenly spoke up. "Come on, everybody, lighten up. We're all rarin' to go on this trip, right? I mean I for one have *always* wanted to go to Kamino." She grinned at Annie widely, who smiled in response. "And we'll be back soon."

  
  


Annie picked up the spirit. "That's right. And if anything nasty comes after us, we can whup it. I've done my share of that so far on this little . . . adventure. Quest. Thing." She beamed, proud of that statement, as Krista and Danielle rolled their eyes.

  
  


"Well, then," Dru said cheerily, "let's get moving, ladies. It's a bit of a flight to Kamino, and we don't want to be late! There's a hurricane predicted to move in a few hours after our scheduled departure, and I think we want to be gone for that."

  
  


Krista paled, then shot Annie a far less pleasant look. "That must be one of the things I've always wanted to see about Kamino," she growled, and Annie shrugged sheepishly.

  
  


"Take care, Krista, Annie," Qui-Gon said. "We'll see you when you return."

  
  


"Au revoir!"Annie said cheerfully; then, as Danielle stood watching with dark eyes, they hoisted their bags and followed Dru down the corridor and into the unknown.


	14. Cabana dancers, sheep, and librarians, o...

A/N: Well, here it is, the newest chapter in the ongoing saga, and without too much of a break between. I'm so proud. I'm also extremely happy that people continue to review and (presumably) read this nutball story. Thanks very much to everyone who does review, and if you're out there reading, as always gimme drop me a line. You might also want to hop on over to fictionpress.net and read a story called Compos Mentis by mara167, for whom I am proud to be a beta. It's great. Yessah.

  
  


And . . . that's all I have to say. Enjoy.

  
  


Soundtrack: The Blue Danube (long version), Is There Anybody Out There?, the main title theme from Sleepy Hollow (I am so going to buy that)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


FOURTEEN

  
  
  
  
  
  


The ship settled onto the landing platform with a soft whine of repulsorlifts disengaging, landing gear creaking as it touched the smooth metal. Externally, the small craft was still; within was a different matter entirely.

  
  


Krista stared blankly out the windowscreen. "You have got to be freakin' kidding me."

  
  


Dru was equally gobsmacked. "This amount of water is . . . unnatural. I mean," she gestured wildly, "*look* at it. The entire planet is just . . . water."

  
  


Of the three travelers, only Annie seemed unperturbed. She regarded the view with tears in her eyes and an almost transcendent expression on her face. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she declared with perfect honesty, and the other two turned and glared at her.

  
  


"Well," Dru said at last, "no point in sitting and staring at it. Time to go in, ladies."

  
  


"And get thoroughly wet in the process," Krista grumbled. "You'd think on a planet that rains so very much they'd at least be polite enough to build a roof of some kind."

  
  


"But then those great flying dinosaur-thingies couldn't land up here," Annie pointed out.

  
  


There was a brief pause. Then, Krista and Dru spoke simultaneously.

  
  


"*What* great flying dinosaur-thingies?!"

  
  


"Those *land* up here?!"

  
  


Annie held up her hands and backed away swiftly. "Just forget I said anything, all right?"

  
  


Within a few minutes they'd gathered everything they needed to take in with them and clustered around the gangplank, ready to bolt. "Okay," Dru said bracingly. "On the count of three. One . . . two . . . three!"

  
  


The hatch dropped, and out they came.

  
  


The dash across the extremely slippery metallic surface went as well as could really be expected, and when they reached the automatic doors that led them inside they collectively realized they needed to stop a good deal sooner than they'd anticipated. This was not as easy a thing to accomplish as they'd hoped; so, when the doors opened before them, all three slid with hardly a surcease of momentum to land in an ungainly heap on the spotless floor.

  
  


The dignified slender figure that had been awaiting them stared down in consternation. "Master Jedi?"

  
  


Dru managed to disentangle herself from the heap and stand with a measure of her order's customary dignity. "That's me."

  
  


"Ah. I am Kimii Ra. The Prime Minister sends me to welcome you to Kamino. We are very honored by your presence here."

  
  


Dru bowed formally. "Thank you. It is an equal honor to be here." Noticing that Annie and Krista had also managed to stand, she beckoned them forward. "These are my companions, Annie from Tatooine and Handmaiden Kristae from Naboo."

  
  


Kimii blinked once, lethargically, but made no other sign of surprise at there being two additional ambassadors. "We welcome you also. This way, please; the Prime Minister is waiting." With that strangely stiff gait, the Kaminoan turned and led the way into the shining building.

  
  


Krista and Annie had wholeheartedly been looking forward to sitting in the chairs that descended from the ceiling, but apparently they did not merit such niceties, for Lama Su (sp?) received them in a less formal chamber where the chair were already in place. A huge panoramic window overlooked the tempestuous oceans lashed by wind and rain, and the diffuse lighting gave the whole room a surreal feel. They seated themselves and waited while Lama Su gave a very long and pointless welcoming speech, then Dru rose.

  
  


"It is indeed a great honor to be welcomed to your planet, Prime Minister, but there are serious matters that cannot be put off any longer. It has come to the Jedi Council's attention that there have been communications between your government and an alleged member of our council for the past three months."

  
  


Lama Su shifted slightly. "I have heard this as well."

  
  


Dru's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. "And it is not true?"

  
  


"I have told your Council this already. Such rumors are false."

  
  


Dru spread her hands. "Then it seems we must apologize for the inconvenience. Apparently someone is merely claiming to be a member of your government as well. We intercepted one of the messages between these two false parties and were alarmed at the implications therein. We have reason to believe there have been many more communiques over the past months, but we haven't been able to get our hands on any of them." She paused, ever so emphatically. "I don't suppose you might have a way of finding some of these exchanges."

  
  


Those huge eyes with shimmers like galaxies in their depths narrowed almost imperceptibly. "No. We do not."

  
  


"Of course not." Dru paused ever so slightly. "From the message we intercepted, it seemed that some sort of business transaction was being made. There is but one business on this planet, is there not?"

  
  


Lama Su shifted again, and Annie and Krista exchanged significant glance. "Yes. The cloning facilities are the only ones on Kamino."

  
  


Dru widened her eyes. "Then can it be assumed the transaction in question was . . . for clones?"

  
  


"The last order we had was for a specialized group of sheep-herders for Markiet. There seems to be little market for clones these days, but it is still possible, of course."

  
  


Dru glanced back at her two charges. Krista's expression was identical to her own, while Annie had a goofy smile on her face. "How very alarming," she murmured. "If we had not discovered these communications to be a hoax, the Jedi Council might well have seemed to place an order for . . . who knows how many or what kind of clones." She paused to look Lama Su directly in his jewel-like eyes and her gaze went deeper than any mortal's should. "That would be unthinkable."

  
  


"Truly it would." Lama Su abruptly rose, forestalling anything else Dru might have said. "I am afraid pressing business calls me elsewhere at this moment, but my assistant Kimii will be happy to show you around the facility. I will be able to speak with you again later. If you will excuse me, Master Jedi, ladies?"

  
  


Dru bowed and Krista and Annie rose to attempt the same as the Prime Minister exited without further ado. Dru watched him go, expression unreadable, while Kimii approached. "Is there anything you wish to see, esteemed guests?"

  
  


"I would very much like to see the cloning facilities themselves," Dru murmured. "If it wouldn't be too terrible an inconvenience . . . ?"

  
  


Kimii hesitated for the barest second, then inclined her pale head gracefully. "As you wish. Please, follow me."

  
  


As they exited the room, Krista sidled up next to Annie, who was still smiling stupidly. "What's got you so happy all of a sudden?"

  
  


"He said . . . they're sheep-herders. That means they have sheep in Star Wars." Her grin grew further still. "Sheep--"

  
  


"--make you happy. Yeah, I know." Krista heaved a sigh and patted Annie consolingly, as people usually did to her. "Come on, we need to keep up."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The tall Kaminoan led them at her stately pace down a veritable maze of hallways until they came to a terribly familiar glass-lined hallway overlooking rooms on either side eerily filled with identical versions of humanity. Krista and Annie, torn between fascination and horror, couldn't tear their eyes away; Dru's expression was unreadable. On either side of them, the atrocities--or technological marvels--stretched as far as the eye could see, and the strange diffuse lighting gave everything the same surreal atmosphere at the reception room.

  
  


Kimii, more than used to traversing these halls, spoke idly of whatever they passed with the blase air of a tour guide; a strange affectation, in her halting and lilting tones. "These are the training facilities," Kimii explained calmly. "The clones are programmed to have whatever skills and personalities the customer wishes. To your right we have union laborers to repair earthquake damage inflicted on populous cities of Ethatka--to your left, a troupe of cabana dancers from Svelte." The spindly arms waved languidly toward the specified directions, drawing their eyes to the masses of humanity. The masses to the right were very efficient and muscular looking--to the left, there was a great deal too much color and frenzied movement to see anything clearly.

  
  


As Kimii and Dru continued down the hall, Annie noticed that Krista had fallen behind. Turning, she saw Krista had stopped and now stood completely frozen in front of a room not far behind them. Drawing back, she went to see what had her friend so enraptured. "Krista, they're getting ahead of us. What are you looking--? . . . Oh. Oh, my."

  
  


The two girls stared with twin expressions of shock and disbelief at a room filled with hundreds of identical copies of a young man about their own age with dark hair and a smattering of freckles.

  
  


For a moment neither spoke. Then, almost idly, Annie asked, "Wasn't Eric going to meet us at the movie theater, that day at Panera?"

  
  


One of the figures, spotting them, began waving enthusiastically. Soon all of the innumerable clones were grinning up at them. The effect was decidedly unsettling.

  
  


"Now that you mention it, I think he was."

  
  


A shout from ahead grabbed their attention. "Annie! Kristae! Keep up, will you?"

  
  


The two girls exchanged a glance, looked one last time at the terrifying room below, then shrugged and took off after the others.

  
  
  
  
  
  


After they'd thoroughly toured the cloning facility, seeing everything from the thousands of cylinders full of partially-developed fetuses to the rooms upon rooms of identical figures going through combat maneuvers, Kimii showed them to a room where they could freshen up and await the Prime Minister's leisure.

  
  


As Kimii shut the door behind her on her way out, Dru instantly shedded her still-soaking cloak. "Only on a bureaucratic world do they not even have the manners to allow you to change out of soaking clothing when you've just come in from the rain."

  
  


"They don't on Tatooine either," Annie pointed out, also removing her heavy raincoat and sprawling on one of the chairs.

  
  


"It doesn't rain on Tatooine," Krista scoffed, slinging her bags into the corner and claiming the bed for her own.

  
  


"Sometimes it does," Annie informed her drily as Krista settled down, apparently intending a nap. "They're probably just so used to it here that they think it's weird when travelers who are dry come in."

  
  


Dru, having emptied the excess water that had collected in her boots, saw Krista stretch herself out and said warningly, "Oh no, you don't. Don't get too comfy yet, girls. We're heading right back out in a few minutes."

  
  


Annie stared at her as the Jedi pulled a clean black cloak from her bag and swirled it around her shoulders. "We are? Why?"

  
  


"Because I am here at the Council's behest to investigate this planet," Dru replied smoothly, "and the Prime Minister is lying to us."

  
  


Krista sat up straight. "How can you be sure?"

  
  


Dru gave her a look. "Hello? Jedi." When Krista flushed and muttered, "Yeah, that," Dru continued, "I need to find out what exactly it is that these Kaminoans are concealing. There's more importance to those 'fictitious' transactions than they're claiming, or they at least they know more about them. It's my duty to find out what."

  
  


Annie stood and, resigned, slid a gun into its holster at her waist. "That kind of goes beyond what the Council asked you to do."

  
  


Dru looked momentarily sheepish, then her determination renewed itself. "Maybe, but nominal quibbles can't stand in my way. I'm going to find out what's going on, and you two are coming with me."

  
  


"We kind of figured," Krista said, changing her boots for more stealthy and less soaked ones. When she'd finished, she stood, determined. "All right. Lead the way."

  
  


"We're under video surveillance," Dru said calmly, "but there's no audio that I'm aware of. So now . . ." She made a slight cupping motion with her hand, and from the far corner of the room they heard a faint crunching noise. Dru nodded in satisfaction. "And now, since their camera has spontaneously malfunctioned, we're not under any surveillance at all," she said happily. "And if you stick close to me in the hallway, we'll be undetectable."

  
  


"Yeah, Luke did that on Tatooine," Annie said without thinking.

  
  


Dru paused and turned to look at her as Annie paled, realizing her error. Behind Dru she could see Krista's eyes nearly bugging out of her head. "Who is this Luke?" Dru asked suspiciously. "Only a Jedi should be able to manage a trick like that."

  
  


"No one," Annie said hastily. "Not a Jedi. Just . . . a friend of mine."

  
  


"A friend with Jedi skills?"

  
  


"No!" Annie said. "He . . . uh . . . he hacked into the system and turned all the cameras off. At this one place. But he didn't need to," she gasped, realizing her error again. "Because it was perfectly legal. What we were doing. We weren't breaking and entering or anything like that. It was--a game. A fun game. You should try it some time. Really."

  
  


Dru stared at her like she was insane and Krista smacked a hand to her forehead. Annie winced slightly, but decided to just go with it. "So . . . Boredom on Tatooine. Good times--perfectly legal and moral good times. Yup."

  
  


Krista made a gagging motion, and Annie just decided to stop while she--well, she wasn't ahead, so before she said something irretrievably stupid.

  
  


"You know, I'm just going to not think about any of that and move on," Dru said decisively.

  
  


"That works for me," Annie said, smiling feebly.

  
  


Dru pulled her hood over her head, brushed her fingers over the lightsaber hilt at her waist, and nodded. "Let's go."

  
  


Dru swept into the corridor soundlessly and Krista and Annie followed, trying to be as quiet as possible. 

  
  


In the hall, Dru made a sharp motion with her hand, gesturing for them to follow her. They moved swiftly down the corridor to the right, into a part of the building they hadn't been shown, the doors on either side of them growing more and more intimidating.

  
  


As they moved, it soon became clear that Dru had some sort of destination in mind. Neither of the other infiltrators, however, knew what it was. Under her breath, Krista muttered, "Where are we going?"

  
  


"You'll see," Dru replied. "For now, just keep quiet."

  
  


Annie and Krista looked at each other, shrugged, then did as they were told.

  
  


After several minutes of creeping, Dru shifted down an adjacent hall and, and they followed. As they walked, Dru closed her eyes and began reaching her hand outward, clearly sensing something the other two girls could not. At last she stopped in front of a door, opened her eyes, then gestured to Annie and Krista to make ready. After a moment of gathering herself, she opened the door, and strolled casually within.

  
  


When Krista and Annie followed, they found the room to be a long observation gallery overlooking the planet's perpetually-stormy seas. The only other being in the room was a small alien with buggy eyes and three roving horns on his skull.

  
  


As Dru strolled casually along the walkway, the alien, who had been reading some official-looking papers, glanced at them suspiciously. "Excuse me, but do you have permission to be down this corridor?"

  
  


Dru froze, giving him a look of wide-eyed innocence. "I beg your pardon, but I had no idea authorization was required. We must have gotten turned around somehow. We're looking for the Prime Minister's office?" She smiled at the other winningly, and it had the desired effect; the little alien relaxed and closed his folder, placing it on a nearby table.

  
  


"Well, you're about in the right area; you just overshot by two corridors. It's back that direction." He pointed helpfully, then stepped forward and bowed by way of greeting. "My name is Aerbjeik-mashij. I work for the Prime Minister. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

  
  


"I'm Dru Parsival of Coruscant and this is Kristae of Naboo and Annie of Tatooine. We're visiting Kamino on official business."

  
  


"What business might that be?"

  
  


Dru considered for a moment, then gave him another friendly smile. "We're here to investigate the matter of the mis-communication between the Jedi Temple and the Kaminoan administration." She paused tellingly. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?"

  
  


His eyes shifted away. "No more than what I am told. It is a dreadful misunderstanding, and I'm glad that it's being cleared up so swiftly."

  
  


"Indeed." Dru eyed the other thoughtfully. "Can you tell me who might have more information?"

  
  


He bowed oilily. "I'm afraid not, madam. I deeply regret my lack of useful information, but I'm afraid I know no more than you."

  
  


"Well, I'm deeply sorry at your unwillingness to voluntarily tell me what I need to know, because it means I'm going to have to resort to drastic measures--and, happily, you told me a flat-out lie, which is impossible to miss." Before anyone could fully comprehend that statement, Dru whirled, picked up the small alien, and slammed him up against the wall, pinning him by the throat. "Make one noise and it will be your last," she promised, shaking him for good measure.

  
  


"Uh, Dru?" Krista asked tentatively. "Are you sure we're supposed to be doing that?"

  
  


"I'm accomplishing my mission," Dru said fiercely. "That's all that needs to concern you."

  
  


"I'm beginning to understand how you got so very many people mad at you in such a short amount of time on Tatooine," Annie said with a grin.

  
  


Dru glared at them once, then returned to threatening the alien. "Now, either you cooperate, or this is going to be very unpleasant. Do you understand?"

  
  


The Aerbjeik's eyes bugged as he nodded comprehension. "Who are you?" he whispered.

  
  


"Guests," Annie said drily.

  
  


Dru ignored her. "You're Kamino's main negotiator, aren't you? You locate the potential clients and bring in their business?"

  
  


The little alien nodded, eyes wide. "How did you know . . . ?"

  
  


Dru continued unfazed. "The transactions between Kamino and an alleged member of the Jedi Council are true, aren't they? And don't lie to me--I can sense when you lie!"

  
  


The alien hesitated a moment, and Dru shook him fiercely as Annie and Krista stared at her, shocked. "All right!" he squeaked. "Yes, they're true. The Prime Minister witnessed their creation but when he began the order he didn't realize it wasn't with the Council's actual approval."

  
  


"Began the order?" Dru repeated menacingly. "How long has this been going on? And what order?"

  
  


"I don't know what the order is for!" the little man squeaked. "All I know is that it's the biggest we've ever had: hundreds of thousands of units. And they've been in production for over a year now. Some of the units are already in the secondary developmental stage and nearing the third. They'll be ready for imprinting within another year and fully mature about eight years after that."

  
  


"Over a year." Dru's voice shook with frustration. "So Lama Su was lying to us all along. But why? Now that he knows the communiques are false, he'll stop making the units."

  
  


He hesitated again, but when Dru made as if to shake him, he squeaked and conceded. "No! He's too deeply involved already. We have our donor and the plans are in motion to fill the entire order. It would be too costly to stop now."

  
  


Dru stared at him like he was insane. "But since the offers are false, he won't receive any payment! There's no buyer!"

  
  


The little alien shook his head. "The Council may not be backing them, but the offers are genuine. We've already had one considerate amount advanced to us to ensure our cooperation. The Prime Minister would be a fool to turn down such an order."

  
  


"Who's paying him?" When the little alien just stared at him, Dru's voice grew fierce. "Who?"

  
  


"I don't know!" Aerbjeik squealed.

  
  


Dru shoved the alien even closer against the wall, her face unbelievably menacing. "If you're lying to me, I'll become very angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." When the alien simply stared at her, Dru shook him again, so fiercely he let out little strangled squeaking noises like a dying penguin.

  
  


"What I really want to know," Krista said in an aside to Annie, "is how Laura knows what a dying penguin sounds like, that she can refer to it with such authority."

  
  


"It's Laura," Annie whispered back. "We probably don't want to know."

  
  


"Come on!" Dru roared, interrupting their conversation. "Talk!"

  
  


"I'm thinking our Jedi has some anger management issues," Krista whispered, sounding more intrigued than worried at the prospect.

  
  


Annie, more practical, decided some intervention might be necessary. "Dru? Are you feeling okay? I think you're letting this get a little out of hand. Maybe we all need to take a break, get our feelings under control--"

  
  


"I think you need a hug," Krista proclaimed, with the air of an expert in the field of hugging. (If such a title existed, Krista certainly qualified.)

  
  


"I'm fine, thank you," Dru replied, her voice astonishingly cheerful. "And I'll be better still once I've slaughtered this little shrimp for not telling me what I want to know."

  
  


Annie decided she just wasn't going to win this one. "Okay then. Uh, Abjer- . . . Abker . . . shrimp-guy: don't you think you should tell the nice lady what she wants to know? I think she's out of patience."

  
  


Aerbjeik thought about this for a minute, then relented with another little squeaking noise. "All right! I don't know who's actually behind all this, but the orders are being relayed through a contact on a planet named Del Majeeco. When the first agreement was made, I met with an anonymous contact in its capital city, Ormjeeco. It's just a few parsecs away, real little planet, out of the way."

  
  


"And that's all you know? You're not still lying to me?"

  
  


"Yes! I mean, no! I'm not lying! I met with the contact in Ormjeeco and that was it! But the people there know nothing of this; you'll learn nothing by going there." His expression was honestly frightened, but as he spoke, his eyes slid away evasively, and Dru caught it.

  
  


"Well, we'll just have to take that risk." Abruptly she released the other and backed away, holding her hands up peacefully. "Well, thank you, friend. Despite your initial reticence you've proven very helpful. We're indebted to you."

  
  


The alien slid away slowly, as though trying not to make any sudden movements. "Ah . . . yes. Glad to be of help."

  
  


"Now," Dru said dismissively, "you're going to go away and forget we ever had this conversation."

  
  


"What!?" The little alien stared at her skeptically. "As if I could ever forget being assaulted and threatened by complete strangers in my own--"

  
  


Dru made a single magnanimous gesture and the little alien's words were cut off abruptly, his eyes turning glazed and listless for a few moments. When he straightened and shook his head, clearly disoriented, his face held no recognition. "Excuse me, do you three have permission to be down this hall?"

  
  


Annie and Krista exchanged deeply impressed glances. "The mind whammy," Krista whispered knowingly. "Danielle can do that now."

  
  


"Cool," Annie whispered back, genuinely enthusiastic at the prospect. Clearly both girls were imagining all the enticing possibilities of having a Jedi-Danielle opened for life back on Earth.

  
  


"No, I don't think we do," Dru said cheerfully to Aerbjeik. "So we'll just leave, then. Tata!" With a jaunty little wave she turned and strode from the room, leaving Annie and Krista to stumble after her less gracefully.

  
  


In the hall, Annie regarded her Jedi friend with astonishment. "Dru . . . what you did back there . . . was that really stuff Jedi are actually allowed to do?"

  
  


Dru shrugged easily and pulled her long black hair into a ponytail. "I didn't break the actual Code, if that's what you're asking. Such methods are discouraged, but effective, don't you think?"

  
  


Annie grinned. "I guess they are."

  
  


"Well, girls, I hope you enjoyed your stay, but we need to be going now."

  
  


They stared at her. "Going? Already? We just got here," Krista said incredulously.

  
  


"Yes, but we have a very important engagement on a little planet called Del Majeeco that we need to reach as soon as we can. We'll need to depart in secret, too, since now we know the Kaminoans are duplicitous."

  
  


Even as she spoke, Dru set off down the hall back the way they'd come, forcing Krista and Annie to follow. "But he was lying to us!" Annie panted as she jogged to keep up. "Didn't you see his eyes?"

  
  


"He wasn't being completely honest, but he wasn't lying either," Dru said with certainty. "I'd have been able to sense it. And as long as he's telling the truth about that being the meeting place, we need to investigate." She glanced over her shoulder at them, expression determined. "Pack your stuff, girls; we're going to Del Majeeco."

  
  


"But we don't even know anything about it!" Krista protested. "How--?"

  
  


"I'm a Jedi," Dru said dismissively. "I can handle this, girls. We'll be fine." And without further word she took off running, leaving the other two to once again follow as best they could.

  
  


"This is getting ridiculous," Krista panted as she and Annie scrambled after their somewhat alarming Jedi. "I'm starting to feel like I'm one of those corny old sci-fi movies where they just wander around aimlessly encountering new adventures every week." 

  
  


"Well, technically, you are," Annie pointed out thoughtfully.

  
  


Krista snorted. "You know what I meant." An idea struck her and she brightened. "I know-- it's like that old show on the Muppet Show, you know?" She cupped her hands to her mouth and said in a very familiar ringing tone, "PIIIIIIIGGGGGGSSSS IIIIIIIINNNN--"

  
  


"If you finish that sentence I'm really going to have to hurt you."

  
  
  
  


************************************************************************************************************************

  
  
  
  


In the future, when Danielle looked back on the events of the next few days, she always consoled herself by saying she didn't really break her promise. She did everything she could have to keep up her end of the bargain and stay out of trouble. Sometimes, things were just inevitable.

  
  


Not that it did any good, of course.

  
  


For a few days she continued her normal routine, visiting the creche, training with her lightsaber, helping around the apartment and occasionally cooking for Obi and Qui. She also spent a great deal of time in the library, attempting to research both Annie's unknown attacker and all that the Jedi Temple had of Sith lore. The results were extremely depressing: she could find no information that seemed to be pertinent to Annie's nemesis, and, just as she had expected, all their knowledge of the Sith spoke confidently of their long-ago extinction or, worse, believed they had never been anything but legends. Therefore most of the stories were treated with a decidedly fanciful air, and Danielle couldn't fathom how much of it was truth and how much simply added to make the stories more interesting.

  
  


When she finally failed in these objectives, she attempted to gain entry to speak with the man she'd severely wounded in the Temple a few weeks ago. When she visited the medical ward, however, she was told in no uncertain terms that he was still in a coma, in complete isolation, and not allowed any visitors. The medical ward, home to the healers of the Jedi, was a terrifyingly brisk and humorless place; she didn't press her luck and merely left when she was told to.

  
  


All this time, she had little conversation with the Jedi in her own household. More than once Qui-Gon, clearly concerned about her sudden preoccupation, asked if he could help her with her research, only to be harshly rebuffed. Completely clueless as to why, he simply stopped asking and left Danielle to her own devices; she was too caught up in fear and anticipation to notice his sorrow. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, was strangely quiet--until the sixth day after Annie and Krista had departed for Kamino.

  
  


She woke before dawn, as always, to begin her day, this time unusually thoughtful. Her hand often strayed to the pendant around her neck, feeling its shape and contour as she rubbed it absently. When Obi-Wan greeted her as he came in, she merely nodded at him in response, preoccupied with her thoughts. After several minutes of silence, Obi-Wan finally broke it.

  
  


"Sweetums should be coming back today," he commented, seemingly idly, watching Danielle closely for a response. "They've got him all patched up and good as new. I imagine he's very eager to see you."

  
  


Danielle, who loved her Nexu nearly more than life itself, was surprisingly unmoved by these words. "Mmm-hmm," she agreed, noncommital.

  
  


Obi-Wan decided to try again. "Marie's said she doesn't need you down at the childcare center today. You've got the day off."

  
  


Danielle just "mmmm"ed in response again.

  
  


After several minutes of silence, Obi-Wan sat down his food with a sigh. "Danielle . . . Danielle, please pay attention. This is important."

  
  


That finally got her attention, and she looked at him in surprise. "What is it, Obi?"

  
  


He stared at her for a moment, then looked away, clearly uncomfortable. "I . . . I know there are things about you I don't know, and things I don't understand. Your past . . . I don't ask questions because I trust you. I know that if there was anything you thought I needed to know or was just important, you'd tell me."

  
  


He glanced back at her after this, and this time it was Danielle who dropped her gaze, slightly ashamed.

  
  


Obi-Wan sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "So, as always, I won't ask you what's wrong, or why your friends went to Kamino with Knight Parsival, because if I needed to know you'd tell me." He paused significantly. "Just like I won't ask you how you got the lightsaber burn on your arm."

  
  


Danielle's gaze snapped up, a deer-in-headlights look on her face. "I . . . I was just practicing with Krista--"

  
  


He raised a hand, cutting off her babbling excuse, and stood. As Danielle watched, he crossed the room to her, expression intent. "You forget that I'm a Jedi, Danielle. I know when you're lying to me. In this particular case," his face turned wry, "Jedi skills aren't even necessary. But don't worry; I'm not going to pry, nor even ask you what really happened."

  
  


As Danielle relaxed, he spoke again, and now his voice was low and intent. "But do know that I fully intend to hunt down whoever did this to you and return the favor."

  
  


Danielle shook her head fiercely. "No, Obi-Wan! You can't! He's--you're . . ." She fought for the words that always deserted her when she needed them most. Finally, she simply said, "Please, promise me you won't do that!"

  
  


He stepped back. "I can't do that. You're one of us now, and I will protect you with my very life--whether you like it or not."

  
  


For a moment Danielle just stared at him, then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. When he returned the gesture, she tucked her chin over her shoulder to hide the tears she couldn't blink back. "I don't deserve you or Qui-Gon. *Please*, Obi-Wan, promise me you'll take care of yourself and Qui-Gon. Please don't get . . ." Her voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

  
  


Obi-Wan drew back and saw the tears on her cheeks. Touching them gently, he glanced at her. "You're serious about this, aren't you? Something has truly worried you. Danielle, you know Master Qui-Gon and I can take care of ourselves."

  
  


"Not against everything," she whispered.

  
  


Obi-Wan simply stared at her. The expression in her eyes was unbelievably disconcerting--it was the look of someone who had watched him die. And, in an extremely odd way, Danielle had.

  
  


He opened his mouth to say something . . . and found he had nothing to say.

  
  


A knock on the door forestalled any conversation for the moment. Obi-Wan went to answer it as Danielle made herself presentable, and returned a few moments later with Queen Amidala, Sache, and Eirtae, all dressed casually.

  
  


"Hello again," Amidala said courteously and with a tone of genuine warmth. "It's good to see you again, Danielle."

  
  


"And you, your majesty." Danielle realized she should attempt some sort of obeisance, started to curtsey, then discovered halfway through that she didn't know what she was doing and stopped awkwardly. Luckily no one seemed to notice, for Amidala had turned to address Obi-Wan. "I'm here to speak to you about the prince's trial. Kristae informed me that she would be leaving abruptly, but she couldn't give me any clear reasons why." Amidala shook her head. "If she doesn't return within a few weeks, we'll have to postpone her testimony, and then Lyle may never be brought to justice."

  
  


"Your majesty, I really don't think they'll be gone that long," Danielle said hastily. "They should be back in plenty of time for Krista--Kristae to testify."

  
  


"It was in a few weeks' time, but now Senator Palpatine is saying I need to move it up as quickly as I can, so the Senate doesn't merely brush us aside. And he's right--Valorum does seem to be trying to overlook it, for some reason."

  
  


Danielle stared for a few moments, then shrugged. "Well, majesty, just delay as long as you can. I don't know what else you can do."

  
  


Amidala hesitated a moment, then clearly decided to shrug it off. "Very well. I'm simply concerned for her. These past few months have been very trying for her, and now she's haring off across the galaxy with a Jedi for a reason she can't fully explain--" Amidala shrugged helplessly.

  
  


Danielle was beginning to feel like every sentence she spoke was a lie. "I'm sorry, your majesty, but I can't explain it either."

  
  


Obi-Wan and the Nubians simply stared at her. For a moment Danielle returned their gazes, feeling the suspicion in Obi-Wan's and the doubt in Amidala's, wondering how much longer they all had to live, then suddenly she couldn't bear it any longer. "I'm sorry . . . I have to go. I'm--I'm supposed to visit Madame Nu in the library today, and I'm going to be late if I wait much longer. Excuse me." Slipping past their concerned stares, she habitually buckled her lightsaber to her waist and exited the apartment.

  
  


The excuse wasn't wholly fabricated; she really had told Madame Nu she meant to come in and speak with her today. The librarian had noticed her frequent visits and inquired as to how she might help Danielle; unwilling to mention either of her two main research projects, Danielle had asked to come in at another time and discuss it. Instead of Sith, Danielle meant to ask about her necklace and the script that covered it. If it truly had been made in Star Wars, a translation must be available somewhere.

  
  


When she arrived in the library the elderly woman was expecting her and greeted her with a warm smile. "Danielle! How can I assist you today?"

  
  


Danielle smiled at her gratefully. "I need to research ancient scripts--and possibly jewelry. Do you have anything here that might help me?"

  
  


The librarian raised her eyebrows, amused. "So much that it would take you weeks to get through it all. Can you narrow it down a bit more than that?"

  
  


Danielle hesitated a moment, then drew her pendant out from under her shirt and held it out for Jocasta to examine. "This is the piece I'm interested in researching. Does it look familiar at all?"

  
  


Madame Nu frowned at it for a few moments, turning it over in her hand, before she shook her head. "Not at all, I'm afraid. May I?" When Danielle very reluctantly removed the pendant, she moved briskly to the nearest terminal and seated herself before it. Picking up a long scanning rod, she swept it over the front of the pendant where the script was so prominently displayed and waited a few minutes for the files to load. When they did, she scrolled through the information for a few moments before shaking her head and returning the pendant to Danielle, who immediately put it back on. "I'm sorry, but both the origins of your pendant and the script written on it are unfamiliar to our database."

  
  


Danielle slumped, disappointed. "There's nothing?"

  
  


"Nothing here," Madame Nu said consolingly. When Danielle frowned, she quickly added, "However, our texts on such things are hardly extensive--it is one thing I've been told we have little need of at the Jedi Temple." She grimaced, apparently thinking ill thoughts about her superiors. "I happen to know of a distinguished scholar in the Lower Quarter who is an expert on ancient scripts from all over the galaxy. I could call him, ask if he would be willing to meet with you."

  
  


"That would be wonderful," Danielle said enthusiastically.

  
  


"Very well. Don't fear," she smiled. "If he doesn't know of it, he'll either have a book on it or know someone who does. He can be rather . . . absent-minded, but he's a genius in his field. I'm certain he'll help you find what you want to know."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Danielle, against all her instincts, had gotten permission to use one of the speeders to fly herself to the appointed meeting place. As always, she didn't dare allow Obi or Qui to come, and she could hardly snag some random Jedi and ask for a ride. Thus, she risked her life and limb and flew herself.

  
  


The distance to the Lower Quarter was a sizable one, and Danielle got lost once or twice in the twisting back alleys. Both times she managed to right herself by examining her map thoroughly, so her journey to the scholar's occurred mostly without incident.

  
  


The scholar, an elderly Twi'lek named Bisaan Roux, lived in a modest flat just outside the business district, in a slightly disreputable part of town. Still, his building was nice, and when Danielle parked her ship in the lot there was no one lurking around and several other speeders near her own.

  
  


Following Jocasta Nu's directions, she located flat 435 and dutifully knocked on the door. When, after a few moments, no one answered, she tried again, this time more forcefully, as she stretched her Jedi senses into the building.

  
  


When still no one answered, Danielle hesitantly tried the knob, and the door swung open.

  
  


Inside everything was eerily still. A fan blew lazily in the corner, rustling a scattered collection of books and papers, and the rest of the apartment seemed to be in a general state of disarray. Drawers jutted open, overflowing with academic paraphernalia, and various works of art or old parchments were tacked up onto the overcrowded walls. The floor itself was littered with all manner of debris including dead plants and marbles.

  
  


At first glance, nothing looked amiss, but Danielle's Jedi senses still tingled, so she drew her lightsaber as she headed farther into the building. "Professor Roux?" she called hesitantly. "The door was open, so I just let myself in. Madame Nu sent me. . . . Is anyone here?"

  
  


When there was still no reply, Danielle ventured farther still, scanning the apartment for any movement. She drifted through an empty kitchen, refreshing facilities, a bedroom, and finally into a cramped but obviously well-loved office. "Professor Roux? Where are you?"

  
  


The office was at the very back of the apartment, which meant she'd searched the entire place and still found no one. "Well then, I guess you're not here," she muttered. Madame Nu *had* said he was absent-minded. Apparently the Professor had completely forgotten he was supposed to meet her, or gotten the time wrong somehow.

  
  


Stepping father into the empty office, she absently ran her hand over the spines of the books on the shelf, wondering if the Professor would mind too terribly if she began her research without him. Finding one that particularly engrossed her, she drew it from the shelf and absently pulled out the chair at the main desk.

  
  


She was in the process of sitting down when she finally noticed the large and unmistakable blood stain coating much of the back and seat of it.

  
  


She sprang back with a scream, Jedi senses suddenly howling in her head instead of whispering. Her lightsaber was ignited in her hand without her having any conscious knowledge of turning it on herself, its glow less comforting in the suddenly surreal setting than it should have been.

  
  


Steeling herself, Danielle forced herself to reach out and touch the chair. Her fingertips came away sticky. The stain was very, very fresh.

  
  


Which meant Danielle was in serious trouble.

  
  


For a moment she contemplated what to do--then, with lightning speed, she fled.

  
  


She flung herself headlong through the apartment, tripping over the mess and scrambling to right herself. She barely even registered her surroundings: all her attention was completely focused on getting the hell out.

  
  


She'd reached the main room and the door was inside before a loud crash from behind her made her whirl, lightsaber humming in her hands, to face her opponents.

  
  


The moment they revealed themselves she was already swirling into action, blade hissing as it parted the air, straining toward the forms of her robed and masked assailants. Features completely invisible beneath their disguises, they fought her in utter silence, silenced guns flashing and long black scythes glittering as they met her own blade. Danielle could hear her own breathless gasps above even the hum of her blade as she fought, quickly growing to realize how terribly outnumbered she was.

  
  


She was holding her own well enough until the lights suddenly went out, plunging them into semi-gloom; she tripped over one of the various items on the floor and her lightsaber was knocked from her hand. Danielle went sprawling, landing on all fours ready to continue fighting, and the dark figures surrounded her in a silent semicircle.

  
  


She looked up, defiant, and the figure before her removed its mask.

  
  


She thought she screamed, but, as in a nightmare, no sound emerged from her gaping lips. Mind empty of everything but terror, she scrambled desperately backward, instinctively trying to get as far from the nightmarish figures as possible.

  
  


Then, something struck her on the head from behind, and she knew no more.


	15. Toto's Nightmare and Cello Houdini

A/N: Friends, readers, countrymen: You all share an interest in the mysterious, the unknown, the occult. That is why you are here. You have faithfully followed this tale of terror and woe until now, the most recent installment in our enthralling story, the fifteenth chapter of this very poorly named fanfiction (which, if no one has gotten it by now, is supposed to be a pun on the hockey term 'five for fighting', which until recently I very grossly misunderstood. Yeah, it's bad, I know. Hence all the apologies.) And now, your reviews, chillingly supportive to starving authors, have reached my ears and your encouragement has spurred my continuing narration . . . until now I present you with another spooky spectacle: Chapter Fifteen. Read at your own risk. (Halloween draws near, y'all. Boo.)

  
  
  
  


Soundtrack: Somewhere Over the Rainbow, anything from Dark Side of the Moon, and always, always Pirates of the Caribbean (or, if you wish, Werewolves of London. Warren, baby, we'll always remember you. Let's hear some howls for the man, everybody.)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


FIFTEEN

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


For a moment, there was absolute silence. Then:

  
  


"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto."

  
  


Naturally, it was Krista who broke it.

  
  


All around the ship, the bleak gray landscape stretched into the distance. It was as though the entire planet had been leached of color: the grass was a sullen brown, the foliage of the plants a dull ash, and the sky a leaden gray.

  
  


"Actually, this is more like Kansas, before she went into Oz," Annie pointed out.

  
  


"Well, fine. Just ruin my analogy then."

  
  


"Sure thing."

  
  


Dru, who'd remained silent during this exchange, shook her head slowly. "It certainly is a cheerless place."

  
  


"Whoa," Krista breathed, a thought striking her. "Do you suppose the people here are colorless too?"

  
  


"It's like America in the early 1900's," Annie said.

  
  


Krista looked at her blankly. "It is?"

  
  


An extremely wicked look crossed Annie's face. "Didn't you know that up until the twenties the entire world was black and white? Just like in the pictures?"

  
  


Krista was as inherently gullible as Laura herself, and her friends had long ago discovered it. "It was?" Suddenly realizing what she'd just said, she smacked herself on the head and scowled at a now grinning Annie. "Bite me, Annie."

  
  


"Well, there's only one way to find out," Dru said decisively. "Let's head out, ladies."

  
  


Outside the ship, the three visitors headed warily along the path, glancing at the uninspiring scenery around them. "Where *are* all the people?" Annie asked, unnerved.

  
  


"I don't know," Dru shrugged.

  
  


"How are we going to find them?" Krista demanded. "And what will we say when we do?"

  
  


"I don't know."

  
  


Annie and Krista exchanged glances. "So . . . do we have any kind of plan at all?" Krista asked, dawning suspicion in her voice.

  
  


"Not really."

  
  


"Oh. Okay then." In an aside to Annie, she whispered, "We're screwed."

  
  


Annie, however, was focused on other things. They were drawing ever nearer to a forest, and she stared at it, fascinated. "Those are the most warped trees I've ever seen."

  
  


Krista looked; the trees were indeed very . . . disturbed. They rather resembled the evil-apple hurling trees from the Wizard of Oz; the number of parallels to that movie was growing unnatural. "They're definitely not your normal, huggable deciduous types," she agreed. A particularly evil specimen drew in sight and Krista drew in a gasp of awe. "Look at that one!"

  
  


Annie and Krista stopped walking to better behold the tree's awesome wickedness. "Whoa," Annie breathed; then, in an eerily accurate imitation, she whispered: "It's a *scary* tree; I'm afraid!"

  
  


"It looks . . . alive," Krista pointed out. "Or like a headless horseman might come popping out at any moment."

  
  


Annie frowned. It just hadn't been long enough since she'd seen that movie for her to appreciate that comment. "That's not a fun thought."

  
  


Krista eyes lit up. "I want to touch it!" she announced with fish-like fervor, moving toward it with hands extended.

  
  


Annie eyed her warily but made no move to stop her. "I'm not sure that's the smartest--"

  
  


Krista's hand touched the tree's bark, and, with a howl, it began to shake, limbs rattling threateningly; Krista stood frozen until one long limb reached out and smacked her soundly, sending her reeling backward.

  
  


"--idea," Annie finished, glumly.

  
  


With another evil moan, the tree lunged forward, and both girls launched themselves in the opposite direction.

  
  


Within a matter of moments they caught up with Dru, who stood motionless, seemingly waiting for them. "Dru!" Annie panted. "You're a Jedi; you've got to protect us! There's this evil tree--!"

  
  


She halted her tirade when she noticed Dru didn't even seem to be listening; instead, she stared fixedly at something in the shadows up ahead. "Dru? What's wrong?"

  
  


"Shhh!" the Jedi whispered fiercely. "Freeze!"

  
  


Both girls instantly obeyed. They peered intently into the shadows, but couldn't see any hint of what held Dru transfixed.

  
  


At last, after several minutes of painful motionless in which the enraged tree could still be heard howling and thrashing in the background, Krista whispered, "Dru, what is it?"

  
  


Ever so slowly, the Jedi raised a single trembling finger and pointed.

  
  


From the gray foliage where their gazes were directed emerged a small, inky black creature with eyes like twin points of flame. Its gaze was locked directly onto the Jedi's.

  
  


For a moment the silence endured, then Krista gave an incredulous bark of laughter. "It's . . . Dru, it's a *squirrel*!"

  
  


Annie gasped in affected terror. In a very bad Scottish accent, she tolled, "That's the most vicious rodent you ever laid eyes on. 'E'll rip your throat out! DEATH awaits us all with nasty big pointy teeth!" She raised her hands to her mouth and mimed wicked fangs, eyes rolling wildly.

  
  


"HUSH!" Dru said fiercely, trying vainly to shut them up.

  
  


It was too late. The squirrel's head whipped around to look at Annie, and it strolled closer to them along its branch. It drew within sight . . . and smiled, revealing a set of fangs easily as long as the girls' fingers.

  
  


"*See*?" Dru hissed angrily.

  
  


"Oh," Annie whimpered. Krista gulped.

  
  


After a moment, Krista rallied and said, "Well, there's only one of it, and it's really little. We can just . . ."

  
  


Something rattled overhead. The girls looked up--only to realize the branches of the trees all around them were black with the nasty rodents.

  
  


"Oh, bugger," Krista whispered.

  
  


They stood there a moment in a classic showdown, Dru's hand hovering over her lightsaber and Krista and Annie scrabbling for weapons, the assorted masses of squirrels glaring at them through beady little eyes--then, the first squirrel gave a shrill, bone-chilling squeak, and they all attacked.

  
  


"RUN!" Dru yelled, and all three sprinted as quickly as they could for the edge of the wood, a black wave of killer squirrels running after them and chittering madly.

  
  


None of them had much recollection of their flight afterward; they knew only that it was in utter terror, the little squirrels pounding after them in gleeful pursuit, their own feet pelting the ground beneath them as they struggled for every ounce of speed they could muster. The whole event couldn't have taken more than thirty seconds, but as in a nightmare it slowed to terrifying unreality, every movement seeming bogged in mud while the indomitable squirrels loomed closer and closer . . .

  
  


Then they were free of the woods and they shot several meters farther down the path, gasping and panting in relief as they realized the squirrels were reluctant to leave the vegetated area. Krista, however, discovered she had two stowaways resolutely clamped onto the hems of her pants and began shrieking and stomping madly, screaming, "Get them off me, get them off me!"

  
  


Dru ignited her lightsaber with a dazzling flash and the two squirrels were quickly dislodged; with threatening chitters they raced back to their comrades in the woods and soon once more became one with the inky black mass of rodentia.

  
  


The three girls stood panting and gasping on the path, still a little shocked to be alive, the terror of the event slowly fading. "That," Annie finally said, "was the scariest thing that has happened to me yet--and believe me, that's really saying something."

  
  


"Funny," Krista gasped, "but--it's SQUIRRELS. *Why* was that so terrifying?"

  
  


"It's just--death by squirrels. That's not really how I want to go," Annie explained.

  
  


"Good point."

  
  


"They don't seem willing to leave the woods," Dru observed, her voice still shaking as well. "I think we're safe, for the time being."

  
  


Krista noticed something for the first time. "Look: a town! A very drab town, so it looks like we're in the right place."

  
  


"No time to waste," Dru said, apparently having pulled herself together. "Let's head in."

  
  


"How can we be sure they'll be friendly?" Annie asked. "That Abjer--the little alien guy seemed really shifty about this. I think it might be some kind of trap."

  
  


"Nonsense," Dru said. "I'm a Jedi, you're a prophet, and Kristae's . . . well . . . smart."

  
  


"Gee, thanks," Krista muttered.

  
  


Obliviously, Dru continued. "I'm sure we'll be able to take care of ourselves."

  
  


"Just like we did against the killer squirrels," Annie pointed out. Dru ignored her and began walking briskly toward the village, leaving the two girls with no choice but to follow her.

  
  


As they drew nearer, they noticed that the town was decidedly un-modern for Star Wars; it seemed to have even less technology than Earth. The town itself was designated by a few outlying buildings which slowly developed into clusters of them packed side by side along cobblestone streets. Scraggly, colorless bushes lined the streets, and dangerous-looking iron fences blocked off each individual lot. The buildings themselves were narrow, somewhat crooked affairs with slitted, barred windows and extremely slanted roofs. They seemed to be about three stories high on average, but, strangely, the doors were all approximately the same height as Krista.

  
  


"I take it this isn't a planet populated by humans?" Krista asked Dru.

  
  


Dru frowned. "I'd been under the impression that there were scattered human settlements about twenty or ten years ago, but they all disintegrated within a few years of their founding."

  
  


"Disintegrated?" Annie asked, suddenly very unhappy.

  
  


As they spoke they'd drawn nearer to the town, and now were within its borders. The first thing to strike each of them was the utter silence of the place. No living things excepting the bushes were in sight; nothing moved anywhere. They stepped hesitantly onto what seemed to be the main avenue, the cobblestones underfoot uneven and rather tricky footing.

  
  


"Where is everyone?" Krista asked.

  
  


Dru's honey-colored eyes closed briefly as she extended her Jedi senses. "There are people here," she informed them a moment later, opening her eyes again. "They're just playing least in sight."

  
  


Somewhere, some wild creature made a forlorn yipping sound, and they all exchanged uneasy glances. As they continued down the street, a chill breeze tugged at their clothing, and they all jumped as over their heads a shuttered window suddenly slammed closed.

  
  


"I'm not getting the impression that we're very welcome," Annie said quietly.

  
  


"We don't mean them any harm," Dru said evenly. "All we want to do is talk. They'll figure that out soon enough."

  
  


"Until then . . . what do we do?" Krista asked.

  
  


Dru pointed. Ahead of them, a domed, slightly larger building dominated the end of the street. "That place looks important. We'll go there."

  
  


Before they'd taken more than a few more steps, however, a harsh shout stopped them in their tracks. As they waited, untold dozens of figures suddenly boiled out of the nearby buildings and into the street, soon forming a ring around them.

  
  


The planet's natives were small, bewhiskered, munchkin-like creatures that stood about a foot below Krista. They were all toting pitchforks, bows and arrows, or some other form of weaponry, and leveling them directly at the newcomers. At first glance Krista expected them to hoist their weapons and proclaim themselves representatives of the Lollipop Guild; on second thought, they had an air of nastiness true Munchkins decidedly lacked.

  
  


"Peace!" Dru said, extending her hands carefully in front of her. "We mean you no harm! We just wish to speak with your town leader." When the natives made no response, her expression faltered slightly. "Do you . . . speak Basic?"

  
  


"Halt!" A voice gruffer than the rest echoed from near the back of the crowd, and they all turned expectantly toward it. A small figure with an air of great importance stepped forward, eyeing them unpleasantly. "Who are you, and what is your business on Del Majeeco?"

  
  


"We are travelers from Coruscant. We wish to speak with your town leader or authority," Dru explained calmly.

  
  


He studied them a moment more, furry brows knitted, tail lashing behind him. "I am the town leader. All right. Bring them to the town hall," he informed the mob in general, and the three girls suddenly found themselves prodded by various instruments as they were encouraged to move forward.

  
  


"This is starting off just great," Krista muttered to Annie, who nodded in agreement.

  
  


After a few minutes' travel, they arrived at the town hall, ducking to fit in the small doorway. Inside, thankfully, the roof was vaulted, enabling them to stand upright. Their fierce escort came in with them, and the large room was soon packed with the small furry creatures.

  
  


"You!" The leader pointed at Dru. "Why have you come here?"

  
  


Dru spread her hands. "We are representatives of the Jedi Temple. We visited Kamino--"

  
  


The rest of her words, however, were cut off by a general uproar. "Jedi!" the leader thundered above the rest. "We do not tolerate Jedi on our planet!"

  
  


Dru's eyes narrowed. "Well, then, as soon you tell us what we need to know, we'll be on our way. What dealings have you had with the cloners of Kamino?"

  
  


"Whatever dealings we have had with Kamino, we will have none with Jedi!" another creature spat contemptuously.

  
  


"What is your quarrel with the Jedi?" Dru asked sharply. "I assure you, we mean *you* no ill will."

  
  


"Sorcerers! Witches!" the leader hissed. "We do not tolerate such evil on Del Majeeco. Jedi are abominations."

  
  


Annie and Krista could tell Dru was struggling to reign in her anger. "Very well. We will trouble you no longer. Come on," she said to her companions, "we're leaving."

  
  


"Leaving? I don't think so," the leader informed her. "You are our prisoners."

  
  


Dru looked down several feet at her opponent and significantly pushed her cloak back to grasp the hilt of her lightsaber. "Trust me, my friend, you don't want to begin a confrontation with us."

  
  


"You will not go," he insisted, not heeding her warning.

  
  


"Then you leave me no choice," Dru said somewhat sadly, drawing her lightsaber and igniting it. As the long violet blade extended, their guards scrambled back to avoid it. Annie and Krista also drew their blasters, leveling them unwillingly at their captors.

  
  


"Put your weapons down!" the leader demanded angrily.

  
  


"Only if you agree to let us go free," Dru replied.

  
  


Krista, watching their captors intently, noticed something disconcerting. "Uh . . . Dru? I'm not sure this is such a good idea."

  
  


"What are you talking about? Look at them--they've no real weapons and they're half our size," the Jedi returned imperiously. "What could they . . . possibly . . ." Her voice trailed off into a whisper.

  
  


As she spoke, the Majeecans had lowered their weapons. Most of them were growling now, and the sound filled the room menacingly. As they stared at the leader, however, his nose began to elongate, jagged teeth bared in a snarl, and black fur bristled all over his body. Wicked saberlike claws extended from now-rounded hands, and his back arched and stretched out, pushing him down onto all fours. His expanding torso shredded the clothes from his body, but the black fur sprouting all over him made it unnecessary.

  
  


Within thirty seconds, instead of a small furry munchkin, standing before them was a five-foot, vicious, wolf-like creature with slitted green eyes and extended, grasping hands.

  
  


When they glanced around them, they realized all the other townspeople had undergone the same transformation.

  
  


"Oh, God," Krista whispered, her gun shaking in her hands.

  
  


"Get them!" the leader roared; and, with snarls of rage, the dozens of bestial creatures attacked.

  
  


It was like drowning. The creatures were all around them, claws shredding clothing and flesh, wicked fangs snapping at any limb that was too slow to evade them. Worse, their hands still grasped weapons, and many came at them with pitchforks and spears. Dru moved like a flurry, lightsaber whirling at supernatural speed, and every creature who leapt at her was cleaved neatly in two by the violet blade. Krista and Annie desperately tried to shoot as many of the creatures as they could while keeping from being mauled by the others. The air was filled with snarls and howls of the injured wolves, but there were always more, and they surrounded the three girls, attacking them simultaneously from all sides.

  
  


"Try to make for the door!" Dru screamed. "If we get outside, we might be able to outrun them!"

  
  


Krista and Annie tried to follow these instructions, but there were simply too many of the wolfish townspeople. They fired blindly into the black masses but with every turn was a slashing claw, the deadly snap of jaws. Eventually they simply backed up as close to Dru and each other as they could, trying to stay alive.

  
  


Within only a matter of moments the futility of their efforts became apparent. The monsters outnumbered them twenty to one, and no matter how many they killed or wounded, more always appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Krista continued to fire, desperately trying to think of some sort of plan. Even as she fought she heard Dru scream as one got through her guard and raked its claws down her leg, and behind her Annie cried out as another knocked the gun from her hands. She staggered, losing her footing, and one of the creatures was at her throat in a flash.

  
  


Krista turned, intending to shoot the creature, and realized instantly that she would not be in time to save her friend. Her entire body was electrified with rage, and something truly terrifying flooded her veins, sweeping aside common sense and overflowing to make the air around her crackle with energy. Hands extended, she screamed, "NO!"--and from her issued a wave of such power that it knocked every creature in the building away from the three girls in a ten-foot radius, including the one that had been atop Annie.

  
  


Surrounded by a ring of scorched corpses, Annie and Dru stared at Krista as she looked at her hands blankly, watching the electric power still crawling there, before her knees folded underneath her and she crumpled into a heap on the floor.

  
  


"Krista!" Annie screamed at the same time Dru shouted incoherently, diving toward their friend.

  
  


Around them, the remaining wolf-creatures were clearly astonished by this impossible feat. "So," one snarled, "another witch!"

  
  


"They're all of them sorceresses!" the leader snarled. "Get them!"

  
  


Dru instantly flung herself into motion again, trying to fight her way through the masses of black creatures to Krista's side, her violet lightsaber cleaving through both air and flesh. Annie dove for her gun, trying to reclaim it, but one of the creatures cut her off with a sneer. She kicked it in the throat with her boot and rolled away, scrambling to regain her feet. As soon as she did, however, another creature knocked her to the ground again and pinned her, claws imbedding into her shoulders. As it positioned its fangs at her throat, another pointed a blaster at the motionless Krista and cried, "Hold, Jedi! We have your companions!"

  
  


Dru, seeing the truth of the situation, froze, and reluctantly disengaged her lightsaber, allowing it to fall to the floor. "Are you all right?" she asked Annie, and the other managed a weak assent.

  
  


"What do we do with them now?" a wolf inquired.

  
  


The leader stalked forward, green eyes burning with triumph. "They're all witches," he said grimly. "And we do not suffer witches to live." His glance turned to another of his lackies. "Throw them in the cells and keep a close eye on them. Tomorrow, they meet the same fate as all witches." He paused, letting his delight seep into the words, and when Annie and Dru looked at him they could see the fanaticism burning in his inhuman eyes.

  
  


"Tomorrow, they burn."

  
  
  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  
  
  


The world spun around Danielle as she opened her eyes--only to immediately wish she hadn't. Nausea and a pounding headache washed over her, and she clutched her skull with a moan.

  
  


"Awake at last?"

  
  


The voice shocked her into awareness, and Danielle sat up in spite of the pain. She was on a hard leather divan, and harsh fluorescent light beat down on her. Blinking back the blurred vision, she scanned her surroundings. The room was a sparsely outfitted reception room of some sort, with scattered tables and the occasional chair or couch.

  
  


On the couch across from her was a being straight out of nightmare.

  
  


Danielle scrabbled backward with a scream, and the figure laughed softly. Reaching up to caress its deformed flesh, the hideously distorted human smiled at Danielle. It was the most horrible thing she'd ever seen, and she turned her head away, fighting not to be sick. "Too much for you, my dear? Ah, well; another form will suit just as well."

  
  


A shiver of ebony light crawled over the other and the burnt carcass suddenly became a benign little old man, beaming at Danielle from behind owlish glasses. "Better?"

  
  


She stared at him, horrified. "Who . . . *what* are you?"

  
  


He gave a delighted little chuckle. "Why, my dear, I'm the one who's been arranging all this fun. Didn't you know?"

  
  


Danielle felt instinctively for her lightsaber and wasn't surprised to find it was no longer on her person. "You killed Professor Roux."

  
  


He clucked at her reprovingly. "That's hardly the worst of my crimes. Come, come; you can do better than that."

  
  


Something inside of her shifted, and dread swamped her. "You . . . you attacked me and Krista. Both times."

  
  


His brow wrinkled, barely noticeably. "*Both* times, you said?"

  
  


Danielle realized, to her shock, that apparently Darth Maul had not been affiliated with this person. Well, great. Now they had two completely different villains to deal with. Desperately, she fumbled for an answer. "Well . . . you didn't exactly attack *us* both times. That man, in the Temple, that I . . ."

  
  


He beamed again. "Yes, that was my work as well. That man was one of my trusted servants." His expression soured a little. "And, as I understand, he has not yet awoken from his coma. You are proving to be more troublesome than I expected--you and all your companions."

  
  


"'All my companions'?" Danielle echoed unhappily.

  
  


"Certainly. Surely your little diva friend from Tatooine mentioned her encounter with me?"

  
  


Danielle stared at him. "But . . . that's impossible. That's decades in the future. You couldn't possibly even know about that."

  
  


He chuckled. "Your friend isn't the only one who can time-travel, you know. In fact, she couldn't do it at all without my aid. And now she's in the time I wanted her, if not exactly the location."

  
  


Danielle shook her head, wanting it to not be true. "She's . . . *you* sent her back?"

  
  


"Didn't she tell you? No? Ah, well, perhaps she herself didn't realize." He shrugged. "I'd intended both of them to be with you, for the ritual, but I suppose one death is just as good as another. I'll take the pendant from their corpses and their blood will serve just the same purpose."

  
  


Horror choked Danielle's throat. "Death?" she said. "Where are they? What's happening to them? Dru's with them--they're all right! What could be happening to them?"

  
  


The other figure just smiled.

  
  


Danielle could feel herself shaking. "So . . . so you did all this, then. You brought us here."

  
  


The smile vanished. "No. That, at least, I did not do. I think it's safe to say you did that to yourselves."

  
  


Danielle looked at him blankly. "Ourselves?"

  
  


"Indeed. But I have orchestrated everything else to the best of my ability. And now, at last, everything is coming into alignment. Soon my task will be complete."

  
  


Danielle forced herself to face him fully and swung her feet to the floor. Her head throbbed and she felt sore all over, but otherwise, she didn't seem to have been harmed. She was unarmed, but she was still a Jedi . . . and this being apparently had unlimited powers at his resource. "What is your task?"

  
  


"Haven't you figured it out by now?" When Danielle simply stared at him, he sighed. "The total annihilation of this galaxy, of course."

  
  


This was too surreal to comprehend. Danielle shook her head slowly, feeling as though she were lost in endless swirling mist. "Annihilation? How?"

  
  


He shrugged. "The old-fashioned way. I intend to break down everything that is good in it, see that it doesn't rise again, then set myself up as absolute ruler. Once that was my only goal, but now . . ." His smile was terrible. "Your presence has made me realize my ambitions can reach far higher than that."

  
  


"Me?"

  
  


He laughed softly. "Surely you realize I've discovered by now that you are not of this galaxy-- that you are, indeed, from a galaxy I did not realize existed until very recently. And, with those lovely charms of yours, I can travel there when I'm finished here--and deal with it as well."

  
  


She stared at him, horror closing her throat. "My--my galaxy? I--I don't know what you're--"

  
  


"Oh, come now, we're past the point of mindless dissembling. I know that you traveled here from a different galaxy, and I even know how and why. I also know that if you can travel here from there, I can do the same."

  
  


"How--?"

  
  


He shrugged. "It's all a matter of knowing whom I banished and why--and then, when you showed up and assumed your places, the rest was simple deduction."

  
  


Danielle put a hand to her forehead. "I don't understand."

  
  


"Of course not. I don't require you to understand." He smiled beatifically. "All I require of you is to die."

  
  


She looked up, fear and hatred entwined in her gaze. "Why me?"

  
  


"Because of that pretty necklace you're wearing, of course."

  
  


"But--"

  
  


He laughed heartily. "My dear, I'm hardly the sort of villain to spill all my secrets in time for you to escape and thwart them. You don't need to be educated to die, and so you won't be. You also won't escape, by the way. By all means, try if you wish, but I assure you it will be futile."

  
  


There was a rap on the door. He called an assent and it swung open, admitting two familiar figures. Danielle gave another cry and shrank back as they drew near, willing them not to touch her.

  
  


Accepting a sheaf of papers from one and a mug of some steaming liquid from another, he shot Danielle a look of pure evil. "Ah, so you like my little creations?"

  
  


Danielle fought to keep her voice from shaking as she stared at the inhuman things before her. They should have been human, but their features were gone, eradicated as though worn away by erosion, and only half-formed lumps remained. Their skin was bleached of all color and so translucent she could see in perfect clarity the tracework of their veins and arteries and even a great deal of muscle and bone. They had no hair or fingernails, and their ears were as malformed as their faces. "What . . . what are they?"

  
  


"If you think about it logically, my power--primarily my ability to shapeshift--has to come from someplace. These particular pets lent me their faces, their minds, and their souls--so this is all they're left with." He patted one fondly on the hand. "This one, I believe, was this--" He morphed, becoming a striking young man with russet hair and green eyes, "and the other, this." He changed again, this time becoming a young woman with a homely face but a charming smile.

  
  


Danielle looked away, nauseated, as he resumed his former features. He sent the servants away and watched her intently. "Frightened, my dear?"

  
  


Unable to summon a denial, she simply shook her head mutely even as she trembled. "Is . . . is that what you're going to do to me?"

  
  


"Oh, no. I told you, your death is very important. I need you as you are for everything to go as I've planned." Another rap on the door made him turn in irritation, and when it opened, a normal-seeming young woman stepped in and nodded at the old man curtly.

  
  


"Ah." He rose and gave Danielle an inscrutable look. "It seems that . . . a complication has arisen that requires my attention. I will return as I may. Don't go anywhere," he added teasingly, and Danielle stared at him mutely. "Until then, my dear." He exited, and the door clicked shut softly behind him.

  
  


Danielle instantly leapt to her feet and raced to the door after him, trying the knob to no avail. Turning, she studied her prison rapidly. The door behind her seemed to be the only way in or out; there were no windows and not even any air ducts, which she would have thought would be appropriate given that she was in Star Wars. There were a few chairs and sofa-like objects scattered around along with some low tables, but otherwise the room was completely empty.

  
  


Desperately, she tried to gather her thoughts. The only possible exit from the room was the door, since her lightsaber was no longer present to make an exit wherever she desired. Therefore, she ought to find some way of getting out through the door.

  
  


Well, she was the heroine in this situation, after all. Any minute now a plan was going to hit her, a perfect plan, clear and true as a bolt of lightning.

  
  


Aaaaaaany minute now.

  
  


Despondent, she slumped back onto the couch, cupping her chin in her hands. She'd managed to get out of every scrape so far--albeit, most with a little help from various other persons. She was a Jedi. She could get out of here.

  
  


So: what could she, as a Jedi, do in these circumstances? If she had her lightsaber, all sorts of things, she groused silently. Without it . . . well, she could send a nice telepathic call for help into the utter emptiness of the space around her. However . . . a thought struck her. Could she, perhaps, contact Obi or Qui, or even any Jedi who might be within range?

  
  


Taking a deep breath, she gathered her mental skills, and sent a shout into oblivion. *Hello? Is anyone nearby? Help me!*

  
  


There was, quite expectedly, no answer. If anyone had heard her, she had no way of knowing.

  
  


She tried again, a few more times, before she abandoned that plan out of sheer frustration. So; what else was there? She could levitate things--joy, she could float around and entertain herself at least. She could mind-trick--

  
  


Danielle's thoughts froze. And there it was: the bolt of lightning. She could mind-trick someone. She wasn't especially good at it, but it was the best option she had.

  
  


Reaching out with her mind, she picked up a nearby coffee table and launched it with the force of a sledgehammer at the door.

  
  


The door barely bent under the assault; it would undoubtedly take continual battering for more time than she had to get it open. However, the result she desired was soon achieved. She could sense stirring and agitation outside.

  
  


Come inside, she thought as fiercely as she could, directing her thoughts toward the closest life form. Come in, now, silently, alone . . .

  
  


Her head was aching a little, sweat forming on her brow, when the door finally opened, slowly. In stepped one of the nightmarish former-humans, features distorted, limbs so fragile Danielle could have snapped them with her bare hands.

  
  


Swallowing down her revulsion, she tried to maintain her tentative grasp on the other's mind. Don't lock the door. Don't lock the door. Close it behind you, but don't lock it.

  
  


The figure eventually obeyed, movements stiff and unwilling. It seemed to be resisting her, but Danielle couldn't tell without being able to make out any expression on its eroded face.

  
  


Now, walk to me and hand me the keys, she thought, projecting the thought so hard her head ached. Walk to me and hand me the keys. Walk to me and hand me the keys.

  
  


The figure started to move forward, then stopped, vibrating in place.

  
  


Danielle was panting now with the effort and with fear of being caught. Walk to me and hand me the keys. WALK TO ME AND HAND ME THE KEYS!

  
  


For a moment it seemed that the figure would do as she asked; then, out of nowhere, it gave a wordless, shrill cry of defiance, then turned and scrambled for the door.

  
  


"No!" Danielle shouted; then, desperately, she picked up another table with her mind and slammed it into the other's head. The figure instantly crumpled, soundlessly, and Danielle brought the table to a screeching halt before it hit the floor. She then lowered it gently, soundlessly, next to the fallen guard.

  
  


For a moment she simply stood there, shaking, before she gathered her wits. Hurrying over to the fallen guard, she forced down her disgust to frisk the creature for the keys. When she found them she snatched her hands free hastily, then crept silently to the door.

  
  


Probing outside to ensure no life forms were within sight, she slowly opened the door and slipped outside, then shut and locked it behind her. She was now in a carpeted hall lined with officious-looking doors on either side, rather like one of the office buildings on Coruscant. She hoped, rather desperately, that she was still on Coruscant--she needed to get back to the Jedi Temple as quickly as possible and talk to Obi and Qui. Clearly this was way more serious than she'd ever imagined. It was time they knew what was going on.

  
  


As for now, she didn't have the faintest idea where she was or how to get out of this building, so she might as well just charge ahead and hope for the best. Stepping forward as silently as possible, she tried to get an idea of what kind of building she was in or who else might be in it. As far as she could tell it was completely run by the forces of her captor, so there was no hope in obtaining help from anyone; there were also no windows, so she had no idea of the building's location or even the time of day.

  
  


At the end of the hall there were two other hallways she could take and an elevator. Deciding she didn't want to be trapped in an elevator if she were discovered by her captors, she tentatively went to the right, her mind scanning the halls ahead of her. The rooms to either side of her brimmed with life, but what kind, she didn't know.

  
  


Her thoughts focused on the beings around her, she turned a corner . . . and found herself staring at an entire group of mixed faceless creatures and normal humans, all armed and looking at her extremely suspiciously.

  
  


She considered trying to play it off until someone near the back yelled enthusiastically, "It's the prisoner! Get her!" At that point, she decided dissembling was a moot point and just ran for her life, gunshots spattering after her wildly.

  
  


When she reached the junction, she decided it probably wasn't the smartest idea to head back down the hall she'd originally come from, because her room was at the exact end of that and it had no exit. Trying to take the other way, however, resulted in her smacking into another group of armed folk coming from that direction, so she doubled back yet again, decision made for her. Elevator it was, then.

  
  


When she reached the elevator (which was actually called a turbolift in Star Wars, she remembered), she decided she might as well be optimistic and pushed the down button a few times for good measure. When nothing happened and the two groups hunting her charged around their respective corners, yelling, she took more drastic action. Summoning the Force yet again, she used her mind to pry the doors open. Then, trying very hard not to think about what she was doing, she leapt into the empty turbolift shaft.

  
  


For a few moments she comprehended little but the dark walls flashing by around her and the steel cable pulling the turbolift in front of her. Then, jarringly, her booted feet struck the top of the actual lift, and she swayed in relief.

  
  


After only a minute, however, she realized her troubles weren't over yet. The elevator was going back up the way she'd come to where she come from; undoubtedly, her pursuers meant to either ambush her or crush her against the ceiling.

  
  


Not really thrilled with either of those possible outcomes, Danielle scrabbled around on the top of the lift and found, to her immense joy, an emergency trapdoor leading into the lift. Hauling it open, she dropped inside heavily, the impact jarring her once more. As the trapdoor clanged shut above her, Danielle frantically pushed the button for the lowest level she could see, and the lift smoothly changed direction and began traveling downward.

  
  


It seemed an impossibly long trip, for at every level Danielle expected the doors to open on a fully armed and ready group of guards or the horrendous faceless beings. Somehow, though, she made it to her chosen level without mishap, and when the doors opened she sprang out immediately, already running before she was fully out of the shaft.

  
  


She was in the sub-sub-basement, three levels below what she could only assume was the ground, or whatever passed for it on this planet. If she were on Coruscant, this was certainly in an area less populated than the main cities, for in them the basements of the buildings were so ancient and overrun turbolifts no longer traveled there. She tried to get her bearings as quickly as possible, registering a vast, dimly lit storage area with numerous pipes and electrical cables lining both ceiling and walls. In the shadows at the far end of the room she could see little, and she approached it swiftly but cautiously, hoping to find some sort of exit.

  
  


She hadn't made it halfway before she heard a creak of resisting metal and whirled to see a pair of emergency stairway doors be kicked open and the guards chasing her spill out of the stairwell. "There she is!" one called, pointing at her. "Stun her, but don't kill her!"

  
  


Deciding caution was better left for other times, Danielle launched herself away at a dead sprint.

  
  


Unarmed and overwhelmingly outnumbered, Danielle's only chance was to use her wits and the Force. The huge cables and misshapen lumps of metal that littered the room made for excellent places to dodge and hide, and she wove through them at a breakneck run as the gunfire spattered all around her. Sensing that the others were drawing too near, she gathered her focus and reached out to the Force. Concentrating intently, she snapped the cables on one of the huge metal pipes that hung suspended from the ceiling and sent it crashing down in front of the guards, making them scatter, cursing. "A Jedi!" one snarled. "Look out; they're crafty devils. Try to get her unconscious as quickly as possible."

  
  


Danielle, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity of their distraction to dive into a nearby cluster of empty packing crates, hiding herself in the debris. Closing her eyes, she drew on her focus once more. Ignoring the fatigue that was already gnawing at her mind, she found a nearby barrel of screws and other metal fastenings and tools. Opening the lid with her mind, she waited until the guards, searching more cautiously now, came within an arm's length of her, then called on the Force again.

  
  


The nails and screws flew out of the barrel at the guards like a barrage of bullets, piercing flesh and driving them back with screams of agony. Before the assault was over Danielle was in their midst, swinging a huge metal wrench-thingy she'd found lying on the ground next to her. Her first blow knocked one of her alien pursuers unconscious; a kick to the groin doubled a nearby man over in agony.

  
  


Danielle got in two more good blows with her wrench before they recovered their wits and knocked it from her hands, then she began to run once more.

  
  


Desperate for ideas, she sprinted headlong across the room as the stun bullets from the gun grazed dangerously close to her. She needed at least one more trick if she was going to--

  
  


Her mind barely warning her in time, Danielle flung herself to a stop with a gasp of terror. Just inches away from the toes of her boots was a yawning chasm, unbound by in rail and unmarked in any way, that stretched down into the darkness of infinity below. Two more steps, and she'd have fallen headlong in.

  
  


In that single moment of hesitation the guards caught up to her, and one grabbed her arm, yanking her back from the edge to stand with his gun pressed painfully into her throat. "Hold, bitch," he snarled, panting. "Don't try anything unless you want to lose a lung or your spine."

  
  


Glaring at him, Danielle frantically sought some way to escape, but now all the guards had ringed her and all their weapons were trained on her. Defeat rose sickeningly in her throat. She'd made it so far, and now she'd be hauled back to wait until that horrible old man decided it was time to kill her . . .

  
  


"What do we do with her now?" the man holding her inquired.

  
  


A hard-faced woman gestured importantly. "She's to go back to her room, but I don't think anyone would care if we roughed her up a little first."

  
  


Grinning evilly, the guard shoved her away from her, the rifle in his hand raised for a blow--

  
  


--and all of the lights in the room went out. Danielle could hear the whine of the turbolift and every other electronic device powering down, and the sudden silence made her release she could no longer her the air circulation systems running either.

  
  


There were muddled shouts of confusion, and in the pitch blackness Danielle felt herself shoved away in a direction she vaguely suspected the pit lay. Trying to figure out what on Earth was happening, she heard one of the guards say, "'Ere, grab the Jedi, the power'll be back in half a minute."

  
  


Danielle twisted away from the arm that reached for her, and even as she considered just going for the pit and taking her chances, she heard a gruff voice yell, "Get down!"

  
  


For some reason, Danielle obeyed instantly, dropping bonelessly to the floor. It was a good thing she did, for as soon as she hit the ground she heard the unmistakable whine of a blaster and a brilliant flash of green bit into the chest of a nearby guard, momentarily illuminating his horrified expression. He slumped to the ground, and Danielle could only assume he was dead. The others yelped in panic and confusion, leaping away from the body, when another blaster bolt came out of nowhere and struck another guard, catching this one in the shoulder. Yet more bolts continued to fly and the guards cried in panic, milling about in an attempt to evade the shots.

  
  


At last, they got their heads together enough for one to say, "Look, they're coming from over there! Shoot in that direction!" As one, they aimed their still numerous guns at the origin of the shots and began firing wildly.

  
  


Danielle watched, but in the pitch blackness she could see nothing but the bolts scorching the metal wall on the far side of the pit. Whoever the elusive attacker was, he was no longer where he had been.

  
  


She nearly screamed when, out of nowhere, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her cry. "Shh!" the same voice whispered harshly. "Come on, follow me." Before she could protest, the hand removed itself from her mouth and grabbed her own hand, then hauled her to her feet.

  
  


"Where--?" she asked dazedly, but then she felt herself hauled forward and had no choice but to comply. As they continued to sneak across the floor, the guards still firing pointlessly at the wall, a thought struck her. "Aren't we a little close to the pi--"

  
  


Her words were cut off with a shriek as the floor suddenly disappeared beneath her feet and she was falling, her question answered for her. Instead of the endless drop she'd been expecting, however, she stopped rather abruptly on what seemed to be some fragile metal construction only about fifteen feet below.

  
  


Heart hammering wildly in her chest, she gasped, "A little warning next time! And who are you? Where are we?"

  
  


"We," the harsh and yet now strangely familiar voice replied, "are on construction scaffolding that extends across a pit nearly three miles deep. We really don't want to fall off, so keep hold of my hand and follow close behind me. They'll get the power back on in a minute, and by then we want to be as far away as possible."

  
  


Danielle opened her mouth to repeat her questions, then her foot slipped slightly and the fact that their narrow little bridge had no handrails was brought forcibly home to her. Deciding she didn't really want to distract her mysterious helper right now, she kept her mouth shut until a better time.

  
  


After a heart-wrenching thirty seconds of careful forward shuffling, she felt her feet hit more solid ground and knew they were off the bridge. At almost that exact same moment, she heard a sort of strange lurching noise, a hiss of electronics, and the lights overhead flickered back on as the power re-engaged.

  
  


She didn't have time to marvel at this phenomenon for long, however, because another tug on her hand and they were running again. She had a chance to get only the hastiest impression of her rescuer--a long black cloak with a drawn hood, black gloves, and the light gleaming off long black boots, all presumably to better blend in with the shadows during the planned power outage--before her attention was drawn elsewhere again.

  
  


They were in a normal hall leading away from what had once been some for of turbolift shaft but was now a blank hole in the ground framed by a crumbling metal arch. This hall seemed only relatively used, but she was hardly surprised when a door opened at the far end and an annoyed-looking young man scurried out. Upon sighting the two intruders charging down the hall toward him, however, he jumped backward and pulled a gun from its holster around his waist.

  
  


The figure with Danielle wasted no time in dropping her hand and pulling up its own weapon. Never breaking stride, it neatly shot the gun from the other's hand, and in the interval it took him to recover from the shock they were upon him. The cloaked figure clocked him neatly on the head with the blaster, sending him sprawling bonelessly to the floor.

  
  


Danielle, meanwhile, had noticed activity at the other end of the hall. The guards, having wised up to their location, had also leapt down onto the construction bridge. They had orders not to harm Danielle; clearly this did not apply to her faceless rescuer, for even as she watched they aimed carefully and loosed the first volley at her helpless comrade.

  
  


Unthinking, Danielle bodily tackled the other, knocking them hard onto the metal floor. As the deadly wave of bullets passed directly overhead, so close she could feel them sear the air, she realized how close they'd both come to death and a blinding wave of rage and fear swept over her. At once her fatigue and uncertainty was erased, giving her the same horrible clarity of thought as she'd had when she saw the man looming over the cowering girl in the Jedi Temple. Propping herself up on an elbow, she drew the Force once more, focused her thoughts, and extended a hand. From it rippled a wave of malevolent energy that rocketed down the hall, shattering the windows in its wake, and eventually striking the men who were readying themselves for another volley on the precarious bridge. Unable to resist the power behind it, they all toppled backward, falling unknown depths into the darkness below.

  
  


In the sudden silence Danielle was eerily aware of the sound of her own harsh breathing, and realized they had a moment to figure out what was going on. Rolling over, too exhausted to stand, she stared at her rescuer. The figure, hood still shadowing its features, had propped itself up on its elbows and was staring at her with an obvious air of incredulity. "You just saved my life," it said, surprised, and the voice was still strangely familiar to Danielle's ear.

  
  


"All right," she snapped, losing her patience. "I'm very glad for the rescue and all, but what the hell is going on? Who are you?"

  
  


Sitting upright, the figure pushed back its hood with an almost Vanna White-ish flair, and suddenly Danielle found herself staring into a pair of unmistakable, sparkling hazel eyes.

  
  


"Hello, darlin'," Laura said cheerfully. "Miss me?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: What ho, another author's comment? How unheard of! Just wanted to mention, since I didn't previously, to drop me a line. Anything unclear? Any dastardly typos we wish to shame me with (ahem cough *Cello*)? Want to commiserate with me about the passing of Mr. Zevon? As 'they' say, you know what to do. (YOU, Krista? YOU're the 'they' in 'that's what they say'?)

  
  


Happy Samhain. I'll see everybody on the other side.

  
  


~the Author


	16. Warping Arthur Miller and Aragog Almight...

A/N: Wowie sir. I've updated again. Sorry about the long wait, guys--and as always, thanks so much for patience and reviews. They're what keep me writing. Okay, well, what keeps me posting this lug of a story, anyway. I just hope you guys are having as much fun reading as I am writing. Just remember to keep on swimming and never let the bad guys get you down . . . hallelujah, chapter sixteen.

  
  


Soundtrack: Should I keep doing this? Does everyone think it's stupid but me? It wouldn't be the first time. Well, uh, just listen to something exciting, stunning, witty, and downright masterful, then. Go for swanky if you can get your hands on it. (Tell me if I should cut this stupid stuff out, really.)

  
  


So yeah, on with the story.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"This," Annie said with a surprising amount of calm, "is bad."

  
  


From somewhere vaguely to her left she heard an absurdly cheery and decidedly unconvincing laugh. "Bad, shmad. Don't worry, Annie. I'm a Jedi. I get into situations worse than this all the time."

  
  


"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

  
  


Dru hesitated only a moment before charging ahead. "This may look bad now, but I promise you, it's nothing. We'll get out of this with no trouble at all. Just you wait and see."

  
  


Annie rolled her eyes skyward. However, at that angle she could see her hands, lashed painfully above her, so she decided drama could wait for later and unhappily lowered them again. "Dru, for the fairly short time I've been . . . here, I've had quite a few bad experiences, so I'm getting pretty good at recognizing them. I'm tied to a wooden stake with a pile of wood at my feet and a whole crowd of people watching me, happily waiting for the moment when that pile of wood is lit on fire and I'm burned into cinders. This. Is. Bad!"

  
  


Annie's summary of the situation was a very accurate one. Following the leader's proclamation, they had been taken to a local jail and thrown in the cells overnight, awaiting their execution the following day. Now, here they were, wrists tightly bound high above their heads in chafing rope, another rope lashing their waists to the thick wooden pole, and an unsteady pile of what looked like driftwood underfoot. They were on the peak of a small hill a few miles outside of town in a deliberately cleared area, obviously built for just this purpose. Now the field around them was filling with the silent, grim-faced townspeople, and even though Annie couldn't even begin to tell time from the murky grayness above, she could only assume noon drew nigh.

  
  


Dru shrugged as best she could with her arms lashed in a similar position to Annie's. "I'm just saying there's no need to give up hope yet. We'll find a way out of this."

  
  


Afraid that if Dru spouted one more meaningless phrase of comfort she might just have to kill her, Annie sought desperately for another topic of conversation. "Is Krista awake yet?"

  
  


Dru craned her neck to the left, beyond Annie's line of sight. "Nah, little miss thunderbolt is still out for the count." She paused noticeably. "And it looks like she's running out of time to wake up."

  
  


Surprised, Annie looked over at Dru, and the woman pointed her chin forward. Glancing in the indicated direction, Annie grimaced as she saw a processional begin to wind its way uphill. "They're coming," she said quietly.

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


Annie waited for the Jedi to say more; a few minutes later, when she'd run out of patience, she said, "So, Dru . . . come up with any escape plans yet?" She hated herself for how much her voice shook as she spoke.

  
  


"I'm working on it," Dru said, her voice somewhat less certain now.

  
  


As Annie watched, the crowds parted, and the processional began to work its way across the hilltop toward them. At its head was the town leader, still in his lupine form, followed by the rest of the authority figures, most reverted to their munchkin-like state. Silence followed in their wake, and even across the distance Annie could tell the glowing green eyes were locked triumphantly on her own.

  
  


"Better hurry," she advised.

  
  


Then, saying possibly the least-comforting thing she had yet, Dru offered, "You know, I really haven't been a Jedi very long. I only passed my Trials about a year ago, and ever since then I've been working with Wes. He's been accompanying me on the all the missions that might turn nasty, making sure nothing happens that I can't handle." Her voice was very small. "I wish he were here now."

  
  


"Yeah, me too," Annie concurred, her head starting to hurt. Could this day get any worse?

  
  


When the processional finally reached the edge of the clearing, it stopped, and the town leader continued forward a few more paces. Slowly, he stood upright on his hind legs, still retaining his wolflike shape, and faced the three accused witches. For a moment he stared at them, savagely, then he turned and faced the crowd.

  
  


"People of Del Majeeca!" he snarled, the inhuman voice ringing across the clearing. "You have come today to witness the burning of these three unlawful witches who have dared to set foot in our town! What say ye?"

  
  


"Aye!" the crowd roared in reply, many hoisting their torches into the ever-darkening sky. Annie drew back sharply, cold all over. She'd never in her life had such mindless hatred directed at her, and it shook her to her very core.

  
  


Suddenly, from her left there was a low moan, and her head whipped around as far as it could go. "Krista? Was that you?"

  
  


Blocked from Annie's sight by Dru, Krista blinked fuzzy eyes and glared half-heartedly at the world around her. "Whar . . . wuzz hapnen?" she asked blearily.

  
  


"Well . . . we're still on Del Majeeco. In that same little town, in fact," Dru replied helpfully. "Only now we're about to be burned at the stake."

  
  


Krista woke up with astonishing speed. "We're *what*?" Her newly clear vision showed her the crowd of snarling townspeople, and she tugged ineffectively at the bonds holding her wrists. "Oh. Well. That kinda bites."

  
  


Oblivious to the exchange behind him, the town leader continued his tirade. "These strangers came to our town from a distant planet and violated everything we hold sacred. One is a Jedi--" the crowd booed and hissed so loudly he had to pause for a minute, waiting for them to quiet. "And the other two travel with her and practice black sorcery too foul to even name! We have all seen it with our very own eyes!" He whipped around suddenly, facing the three captives. "Do you deny it?"

  
  


Dru lifted her chin and met his stare, the cool wind flowing through her hair and seeming to carry her fears and uncertainties from her. Somehow, even though the werewolf foamed at the mouth from the fervor of his speech and madness raged in his eyes, something in the cool black gaze of the Jedi was far more intimidating than he. "I always have been and always will be a Jedi," she replied, voice clear and carrying. "But I do not know whereof this is a crime. We came to your planet in peace, intending to aggression or transgression of yours laws, seeking information. It was you who attacked us and attempted to prevent us from leaving, then imprisoned us. Now you accuse us of witchcraft and other absurdities that are utterly without proof. We did you no wrong and you assaulted us unprovoked. How does that make us the villains?"

  
  


"Without proof?" the leader screeched. "That one--," he pointed a mottled gray-green claw at Krista, "--in front of all of us, used black arts to slaughter fourteen townspeople, and you, Jedi, used your own sorcery to kill half as many again!" He turned back to the townspeople. "Do I lie?"

  
  


Their screams and boos assured him in no uncertain terms that he did not. Eyes burning with triumph, he turned back to his captives. "They have all witnessed it, Jedi. Your lying tongue cannot deceive us."

  
  


"I speak only the truth," Dru retorted icily, her voice cutting through the jeers of the crowd. "It is you who lie. We are what we are: not witches, but ambassadors who came to you in peace, and we offered you no violence until you began it of your own volition. The blame lies on your own shoulders."

  
  


Overhead, the sky was darkening, the last traces of sunlight disappearing from the sky. In the dim twilight, the leader outright snarled at her, ears flattening against his skull. "Deceiver! Will we listen to these lies?"

  
  


"NO!" the townspeople roared, many shifting into wolf form with the force of their wrath. In none of the voices, in none of the alien faces, could Annie see even a hint of remorse or pity. The breeze, cold now, began to blow more fiercely, and she shivered in her bonds from cold as well as fear. The Del Majeecans were united in their hatred of the foreigners, and she understood at that moment that none of them would even speak out against this monstrous injustice.

  
  


"So, witches," the leader snarled with obvious relish, "you stand accused, and you know your own crimes. If you wish to die quickly, admit your guilt to this assembly, and you will be hanged swiftly and without torment. How do you plead?"

  
  


"Fool." Dru's voice was like a whiplash, as cold and cutting as the wind. "You know not what you do. With this act, you bring down the wrath of all the Jedi upon yourselves, and the Republic as well. You are signing your own death warrant over a petty injustice. You know we are innocent! Why will you not set us free?"

  
  


"Lies!" the crowd screamed as one, and, before anyone realized what was happening, the town leader darted forward and slashed a raking slap across the Jedi's face, leaving a set of bloody welts in his wake as the crowd roared approval. When Dru looked up, the blood beginning to pool in the long scratches, her eyes were blazing. Looking at the expression on the Jedi's face, Annie suddenly realized that over the course of the last few minutes the sky had grown completely black, and the only illumination now came from the torches the townspeople carried.

  
  


Uncertain how this could have happened so quickly, she looked back at Dru . . . and suddenly she found herself unwontedly afraid.

  
  


"I ask you again, sorceresses," the town leader screamed. "You may still save yourselves and earn a quick death. How do you plead?"

  
  


Before Dru could speak, Krista shouted over the crowd, her voice almost unrecognizable with anger and hatred. "Guilty! I say that we are GUILTY! We are Jedi and sorceresses and prophets and we damn well aren't going to stop just to make you happy! You know what we are--yes, I know you do. Do you remember me? Do you? I slaughtered over a dozen of your kind with the blink of an eye, and I can do it again! And if you think I'm terrifying, it's nothing compared to what the others can do! Let us go now, or see how truly evil we can be!"

  
  


The crowd actually drew back at her words, subdued and snarling, many looking ready to flee into the growing darkness. Overhead, a low roll of thunder rumbled in the distance, the wind as uneasy as the townspeople. Krista, on a roll now, continued. "Yes! We're witches! Powerful, evil, mighty witches! And if you don't release us, we'll bewitch you! We'll . . . we'll turn you into fish!" Oblivious to the crowd's sudden incredulity, she continued at ever-increasing volume. "That's right, FISH! Nasty, flopping, gasping, wriggling fish, and you'll all die right there at our feet!" She paused, panting, to draw breath. "Do you hear me? Let us go, NOW!"

  
  


The crowd was silent for a moment, then roared its disagreement, so loudly it was nearly deafening.

  
  


"Hoo boy, I bet they're going to release us now," Annie said with a decided lack of enthusiasm. "Great job, Krista."

  
  


"I lost them somewhere around the fish, didn't I?" Krista asked, grimacing.

  
  


Dru nodded. "And you started off so well," she added, sighing. "Should have quit while you were ahead."

  
  


They were cut off by the town leader's shout. "You have heard their answer!" he shouted to the assembled masses. "Now, what do you say?"

  
  


The response was deafening as they hoisted their torches to the night. "BURN THEM!"

  
  


"So be it," the leader tolled, his voice like a death knell. He turned back, and Annie could see the fanaticism in his gaze. "Judgment has been passed on you, witches," he said, suddenly solemn. "May all the gods have mercy on your souls." He stood gazing at them a moment longer, then turned his back. "Light the pyres."

  
  


With a menacing grin, three torchbearers stepped forward, one toward each pyre. Krista muttered some choice profanity under her breath and Annie shrank back against the wooden stake behind her. "God help us," she whispered. "Krista! Krista, having any bright ideas?"

  
  


"No, but that's not really *my* department, is it? You're the freaking prophet, and Dru's--Dru! Isn't there anything we can do?"

  
  


Annie glanced over at the Jedi when she didn't respond and was surprised to see her eyes closed serenely, head tipped back, as though she were deep in meditation. "Dru?" she called, worried. Then, when there was again no answer: "Dru!"

  
  


"What's wrong with her?" Krista yelled.

  
  


Annie looked frantically at the Jedi, whose lips now seemed to be moving as if in some silent prayer. "I don't know! What do we do?"

  
  


Krista looked at the torch that was even now being brought toward her pyre. "Well, off-hand, I'd say we die."

  
  


Annie twisted wildly in her bindings, terror rearing up in her like some savage beast, galvanizing her limbs into frantic movement and eating away her reason. "No! No, we can't . . . Oh, God, please, *somebody* . . ." Desperately, she tried to summon a vision, but her power did not come on command.

  
  


"Annie, listen! What's she saying?"

  
  


Tearing her eyes away from the torch that drew ever-nearer, she forced herself to turn and look at Dru, from whom words were now emerging. She couldn't make out anything distinct, but there was a definite murmur of sound coming from the Jedi.

  
  


"I don't know! What do we DO?"

  
  


"You die, witch," the beast with the torch said. He had now drawn abreast of her, and Annie could already feel the heat of the flames rising up. With an unspeakably evil smile, he glanced back to see that his fellow townspeople were in position . . . then, as one, they bent and lowered the flames to the wood piled at the three girls' feet.

  
  


Before the first crackle of the flames, Dru's words were finally distinguishable: " . . . and a Jedi shall know no hatred, no anger . . . no fear . . ." She spoke the words of the Jedi code like a prayer.

  
  


As the wood at her feet ignited into flame, Krista screamed one last time, desperately, "DRU!"

  
  


The Jedi's eyes snapped open--and the fire from every single torch and the girls' pyres snuffed out, plunging them into utter darkness.

  
  


Annie and Krista gasped--but the townspeople were far less happy. From the blackness they could hear screams and shouts. "More witchcraft!" the town leader snarled.

  
  


"Yes." The girls' heads snapped around to look at Dru, and they realized in sudden shock that they could see her. Like static electricity, energy crawled up her clothing, danced into the pyre at her feet, and slid up to the tip of the stake, illuminating it as well. "I told you that to defy me was to defy everything the Jedi stand for," Dru said evenly enough. The words were calm, but her voice had a deeper, stranger quality to it, making it sound almost inhuman. "Now, you will see exactly what that means."

  
  


As everyone watched, reality suspended for a moment of breathless hush, she tipped back her head . . . and the sky above her was rent as a bolt of lightning struck the stake she was bound to.

  
  


Krista and Annie cried out in horror, the townspeople screamed, and a blinding light forced them to shield their eyes--but when they looked back, the stake was a blackened husk, and Dru was brushing the ashes of her bonds from her hands with slow deliberation. When she finally deigned to notice the countless eyes upon her, she stopped, then with precise moments drew her lightsaber from within her robes and ignited it, its glow brilliant against the darkness. Apparently, she'd had it all along.

  
  


For a heartbeat Krista dared to hope that the townspeople would flee; then, someone screamed, "Kill them!" and all hell broke loose.

  
  


Dru spun into motion like a sheet of blinding light, lightsaber drawing an arc of brilliance through the air and the effulgence still trailing from her limbs painting the night around her. The pitchforks and knives of the Del Majeecans were of little concern to her; to Krista and Annie, on the other hand, they were still somewhat alarming.

  
  


"Dru!" Annie screamed as the first wave of terrified townspeople rushed at her, weapons hoisted. To her left, Krista gave a strangled yelp as she tried desperately to evade an equally sticky situation.

  
  


Dru glanced up, realized she wouldn't have time to make it to both girls, and raised an arm heavenward. The sky split once more, and this time the bolt of lightning struck the dry grass at her feet, and fire sprang up with a hungry roar to push back the surrounding townspeople. As soon as it touched down Dru threw her lightsaber at Annie's attackers, and Annie squeezed her eyes shut milliseconds before the tumbling blade bisected the two nearest townspeople. At the same time Dru leapt in the opposite direction, palm extended, and used the Force to blast more of the werewolves away from Krista.

  
  


As Dru turned, satisfied Krista would live through the next few moments, and ran to retrieve her lightsaber, Krista realized the blow had only momentarily stunned her attackers and they were even now recovering their feet. As the nearest one came at her again, she desperately summoned everything Eirtae had ever taught her and hoisted herself up by her wrists. When the first attacker reached her, she lashed out with her feet, catching him squarely in the chest and knocking him backward off the pyre and into a gout of flame. Grabbing the pole, she swung herself bodily around it in time to inexpertly kick another in the head, stunning him into dropping his weapon.

  
  


Annie, meanwhile, lacking months of intensive handmaiden training, was in a bit more of a spot. When two armed townspeople rushed at her from opposite directions, all she could do was gasp and throw herself out of the way. Luckily, this worked; one threw himself to a stop, and the other rather ineffectively jammed the tip of his weapon into the pole near Annie's hands, clattering off the pyre himself. Seeing an opportunity, she used her free seconds to wrench her rope around until it was against the sharp blade of the axe and begin sawing desperately at the bonds. As she worked frantically, she could see the other wolf recover from his shock and begin to charge at her. Clenching her teeth with determination, she worked her wrists until, at last, the fraying rope snapped, and she fell to the ground with free hands just in time to trip the charging townsman.

  
  


As Annie viciously kicked the wolf off of her and seized his weapon, Krista was trying to fumble for the weapon with her feet, which was not working especially well. Deciding to abandon this tactic, she looked up in time to see and axe coming straight at her, and she ducked as best she could with a yelp. She felt it scrape her wrists, and she screamed; but then suddenly she was falling and she realized that it had inadvertently freed her, cutting her bonds as it scraped her wrists. Wasting not one precious second of freedom, she yanked the axe free of the stake, hoisted it expertly in her arms, and, with a yell of rage, rushed into battle.

  
  


As Annie picked up a piece of wood from the pyre and knocked the townsman atop her unconscious, she and Krista both looked up at the sound of Dru's voice. "Krista! Annie! Follow me!" The Jedi, having carved herself a small space, waved urgently at her two charges, then took off for the woods, and they dropped what they were doing to follow.

  
  


Though the townspeople were at first shocked by their unexpected flight, they lost little time in following them, and the three prisoners found themselves hotly pursued as they sprinted across the open field at the foot of the plateau. The woods and their relative safety were still some distance ahead, and the four-legged lope of the townspeople was rapidly gaining on them. Dru could have easily outran them if she harnessed her Jedi skills, but she could not leave her companions, and so forced herself to match their pace.

  
  


It was only a matter of time before the first townspeople overtook them, several running around in front of them to cut them off, others rapidly encircling them with bared fangs. The three girls threw themselves into battle, fighting madly for survival, but as the circle closed in on them, it seemed their chances of escape were dwindling.

  
  


Then, out of nowhere, bright headlights pierced the murky skies, and all glanced up to see a ship swerve in over the horizon, skimming low over the treetops. As it barreled toward the field, the townspeople scattered as it slowed to hover a few feet above the ground, then extended a boarding ramp.

  
  


Then, wonder of wonders, who should emerge from its interior but a very harassed-looking Wesley, beckoning them urgently. "Come on!" he yelled, and the girls needed no further urging. Taking advantage of the wolves' momentary surprise, they threw themselves aboard the ship and scrambled up the boarding ramp, Dru first, she hauling Krista and Annie following shortly behind. No sooner had they all stepped within than Wesley, returned to the cockpit, took off, nearly knocking them back out. Dru yanked up the boarding ramp and shut the hatch, and the three collapsed onto the floor, panting.

  
  


As they savored those few delicious moments of realizing they were still alive, Wesley leaned back in the pilot's seat the glare pointedly at Dru. "I'm getting rather tired of tagging around after you and saving your worthless hide," he snarked. "Do try and be a little more successful on your ventures in the future, will you?"

  
  


Dru glared at him lovingly. "As though you would stop tagging after me even if you thought I was safe." Over the other Jedi's spluttering protests, she explained wearily, "See? I told you he rescues me far too much."

  
  


Annie was staring at the Jedi. "Dru . . . you told me you had just passed your trials, that you hadn't been a Jedi very long."

  
  


Dru shrugged, looking far too pleased with herself. "Long enough, apparently. Besides, I didn't want you to have any false hopes in case we did burn to death."

  
  


Krista just groaned, flopping down on the deck and nursing a monstrous headache, a leftover of her magical temper tantrum yesterday.

  
  


"So where are we going now?" Annie asked, curious.

  
  


It was Wes who answered. "Back to Ulyssia, which is where I'm actually supposed to be at this moment in time. You three get to cool your heels with me for a while, where I can keep an eye on you."

  
  


Dru made a rude gesture at Wes, which he coolly ignored, but the corner of his mouth twitched suspiciously. Satisfied, Dru leaned back on her elbows and surveyed her charges. "You know, despite it all, that didn't go too badly."

  
  


Annie stared at Dru with eyes so wide they looked as though they might pop out of their sockets. Krista, still prone on the floor, opened one eye briefly, gave Dru a basilisk glare, then closed it again, deciding she wasn't even worth the contempt.

  
  


"Huh," Wes said abruptly from the cockpit. "Now there's a funny thing."

  
  


"What?" Dru asked idly.

  
  


"It's all over the news broadcasts. Looks like the feud between the Trade Federation and Naboo has finally come to blows. The Federation has blockaded the planet."

  
  


At this Krista sat bolt upright and Annie flinched visibly. Unable to fail to notice these reactions, Dru looked at them uneasily. "What is it?"

  
  


Annie's voice was shaking, but cold and hard as steel. "Go back to Coruscant."

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"We don't have time to go to Ulyssia. We need to get to Coruscant, now."

  
  


"Why--?"

  
  


"I just--" Annie put a hand over her eyes. "We just do, okay?"

  
  


There was a pause, then Dru shrugged, looking fairly unhappy. "Well, the prophet has spoken, Wes. Do we obey?"

  
  


"Damn straight we do," he replied, rapidly altering the coordinates in the navicomputer. "She's saved our lives more than once; I don't plan on ignoring her now."

  
  


Clearly unsettled, Dru glanced at their passengers. "But what is it? What's so important that we have to go back now?"

  
  


Annie and Krista exchanged a glance, and when they looked back at her, Dru was shocked by the horror and impotent rage in their eyes.

  
  


"It's started."

  
  
  
  
  
  


********************************************************************************

  
  
  
  


Danielle stared into those hazel eyes, so long familiar to her, so completely unexpected here and now. "Laura," she said, stunned. "But . . . how . . . ?"

  
  


Laura opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly gunfire spattered at the end of the hall, heralding the arrival of more troops. She sprang to her feet, and Danielle followed her. "No time for questions now," she said firmly. "I'll explain everything later. For now, run!"

  
  


As they took off down the hallway, Danielle gasped, "How do we get out of this place?"

  
  


"I've seen some schematics," Laura panted back. "The end of this hallway should lead us to--"

  
  


Danielle never learned where the hallway would lead them, however, because abruptly Laura threw herself to a halt and grabbed Danielle roughly by the arm, pulling her backward. Simultaneously, Danielle's danger sense went on overdrive, and she yanked Laura with her into a nearby doorway just as, ahead of them, a huge explosion suddenly rocked the hall, buffeting them.

  
  


As they looked back into the hall, Danielle perceived through the debris that something had blasted the ceiling out, and several someones were now descending to their level.

  
  


Laura muttered some unfamiliar curse word, looking decidedly unhappy. "Okay, maybe not that way," she said uncertainly.She glanced down the hallway the way they'd come, an equally unappealing option, and glanced at Danielle. "You wouldn't happen to have a lightsaber on you, would you?"

  
  


"Well, they did let me keep my Jedi weapon when I was a helpless captive, but I stupidly forgot it and left it lying up in my room when I escaped," Danielle said, her voice impossibly sarcastic.

  
  


Laura wrinkled her nose at her friend. "No need to get testy," she soothed Danielle, a hint of laughter underneath the words. "I was just trying to be optimistic. Well, then, I guess we do this the ugly way."

  
  


"The ugly way?" Somehow, Danielle doubted this was going to be fun.

  
  


Laura grabbed an inconspicuous object from the wall--a fire-axe, an object strangely anachronistic in such an otherwise modernized galaxy. As Danielle watched, she hoisted it over her shoulder, turned back to the wall, and keyed in a sequence of numbers on the door. To Danielle's shock, it slid open, and the two girls darted inside, letting it slam shut and lock behind them.

  
  


They were now in what appeared to be a storage room. "Okay, what now?" Danielle asked, unimpressed.

  
  


Without answering, Laura strode across the room to the far wall, which was blank of doors or windows, and began hacking at it with the fire axe. Underneath the thin metallic exterior the wall proved to be made of plaster, and within thirty seconds Laura had cleared a sizeable hole into the next darkened room, large enough for the two girls to fit through. Drawing back, a little exerted from her efforts, she eyed the opening with satisfaction.

  
  


Danielle was unable to resist. "Boy, that's subtle. They'll never guess where we went next."

  
  


Laura raised one eyebrow effortlessly. "Never underestimate the sneaky and underhanded," she informed Danielle solicitously. As Danielle watched, she stalked to the far corner of the room behind a pile of boxes and began hacking a new hole in the floor. As Danielle stared, stupefied, she heard a sudden hammering noise begin at the door as their pursuers wised up to their location and began trying to get in.

  
  


"Laura," Danielle asked suddenly, "how did you know the code to the door?"

  
  


"Magic," Laura answered shortly, not halting her destruction of the floor.

  
  


"Okay then." In a few more seconds, Laura had finished her second exit, and the door was starting to glow at the edges. "You are planning to go through that hole and not dig a few more decoys, just to make them guess?"

  
  


Laura glared at her. "This hole, thanks. It's hidden by all these boxes; it should take them a while to even realize it's here." Tossing the axe over by their decoy hole, she beckoned Danielle urgently. "Come on, hurry!" and then proceeded to jump through the hole herself.

  
  


Muttering under her breath, Danielle followed, leaping through the hole into the blackness below. Her boots hit the floor after a brief drop, and she peered around, disoriented. "Why aren't there any lights?"

  
  


"Heck if I know. Come on, I know another way out. I think I can lead us around in here decently well."

  
  


Danielle could barely make out her friend's dim form in the darkness, but when she heard the door slam open overhead, she took off after her as silently as possible, praying their ruse wouldn't be discovered.

  
  


After only a few feet through the emptiness, Danielle whispered, "Where are we?"

  
  


"An abandoned hangar bay," Laura whispered. "But this isn't low enough; they'll still find us here. Come on."

  
  


As Danielle watched, Laura beelined for the far wall of the hangar bay, and she followed hesitantly. There, Laura flung open a door and disappeared inside. When Danielle followed she found herself in a stairwell, and Laura was descending at a rapid pace, leaving her no choice but to follow.

  
  


Down and down they went, level after level, until she wondered how far Laura intended to take them. When she asked, Laura replied, "The lowest level the turbolift doesn't go to. It shouldn't be easy for them to reach us there."

  
  


Sure enough, Laura eventually spotted the desired level number and they left the stairwell, opening the door into a world of inky blackness filled with various obstructing objects.

  
  


"Where are we?" Danielle whispered.

  
  


Laura shrugged. "Deep in the bowels of the building. No one's come down here for years. We get to be the first, oh joy."

  
  


Danielle glared at her wordlessly, but followed when Laura set off purposefully into the gloom.

  
  


Laura was not the world's best navigator; every few yards she would bump into some unknown object or stumble over something on the floor, cursing every time she did so. Danielle, however, fared little better; she was continually running into Laura from behind or smacking face-first into a wall that had somehow sneaked up on her. Between the two of them it was surprising that they didn't knock over something especially loud and bring the whole guard down on them, but somehow they managed to move along at a relatively quiet pace.

  
  


After a few uneventful minutes, except for Laura stepping on something that had splatted and now stuck to her shoe, squishing with every step she took, Danielle was feeling her way through the darkness when she felt something brush against her leg--something horribly scuttling and hairy. With a soft shriek, she leapt backward, and Laura instantly whirled, prepared for battle. "What is it?"

  
  


"Something touched my leg!"

  
  


"What do you mean, something touched your leg?"

  
  


"I mean that something hairy and scuttley just brushed my ankle! There's something *alive* down here!"

  
  


"That's impossible," Laura said, but she didn't sound that certain. "Nothing's used these old rooms in more than--ohmygod, I felt it too!"

  
  


"See! See!" Danielle said, feeling pettily vindictive.

  
  


"Yeah, I felt it. Okay, what did that feel like to you?" Laura sounded distinctly unhappy.

  
  


Danielle glanced at her friend, and suddenly felt paralysis claiming her limbs. "Oh no," she muttered between clenched teeth. "No, no, no. Not in this world, too!"

  
  


"Okay," Laura said, voice shaking but determined, "we're just going to keep moving and leave it behind, right? We'll be okay."

  
  


Danielle's teeth were practically chattering now. "Laura . . ."

  
  


Laura turned back again. "Danielle, are you all right? We really need to . . ." Her voice trailed off when she finally made out her friend's expression in the darkness. "What is it?"

  
  


Somehow Danielle forced her arm to raise to point at Laura. "It's ON YOU!"

  
  


"WHAT?!" Laura looked at her shoulder, saw the humongous hairy spider leering at her, and shrieked in horror. Instinctively, she flung it off her--and launched it straight at Danielle.

  
  


Danielle was at first too paralyzed to move as the hairy projectile came rushing at her, but when it struck her shirt and clung there, she could suddenly move once more. With a blood-curdling scream, she flailed her arms and scrambled backward, trying to somehow escape the monstrous arachnid. This tactic was singularly ineffective; the spider hissed, curling up its forelegs, and began scuttling toward her face.

  
  


Laura, never failing in a crisis, launched herself at Danielle, tackling her and landing directly on top of her in an attempt to squish the spider between them. She succeeded in knocking the breath out of Danielle and making her see stars, but the spider, a crafty little devil, evaded Laura's crushing form and instead crawled onto the ground and scuttled away rapidly, trying to escape.

  
  


Several minutes and loud crashes later, the spider was a black smear on the ground, and the two experienced warriors stared at it with expressions of, respectively, horrified to the point of lifetime scarring and grim triumph.

  
  


"Well," Laura (the grim triumphant one) said at last, "if that wasn't enough to announce our location to the entire building, I don't know what is."

  
  


"But at least the spider is dead," Danielle pointed out. Her tone of voice indicated that this was the only important point.

  
  


Laura sighed and dropped the unknown wrenchlike object with which she had dealt the spider its death blow. "That's true."

  
  


Danielle slowly unclenched her fingers from around her own makeshift weapon. "I. Hate. Spiders," she said, slowly and distinctly.

  
  


"Funny, I actually happened to notice that. I don't suppose you want to keep that one intact little leg, as a souvenir? Maybe make a necklace out of it?"

  
  


Danielle shot Laura a look that said very clearly that if Laura so much as mentioned the spider again she was going to meet the same fate. Laura grinned, pitilessly, and said, "Come on, time's a-wastin'," then, horrifyingly chipper after Danielle's near-death experience, set off across the room once more.

  
  


Danielle was much less happy with the situation at large now--which, considering she was a captive in an unknown building being pursued by unknown evil and magical persons, was really saying something. Every small noise made her think of scuttling legs; every time Laura twitched, she thought another of the hairy beasties had landed on her. Luckily, all of these suspicions came to naught, but Danielle existed in a constant state of paranoia.

  
  


At last, after several minutes, Laura came to an abrupt stop, Danielle behind her. "What is it?" Danielle whispered anxiously.

  
  


"We're at a stairwell," Laura whispered back.

  
  


Danielle waited, but when Laura offered no further information, she asked, "And this is . . . bad?"

  
  


"We're not supposed to be at a stairwell."

  
  


Danielle groaned. "Oh, God. Don't tell me . . ."

  
  


"We're not lost," Laura said indignantly. "I'm just momentarily sidetracked."

  
  


"What are you talking about? You have the sense of direction of a pickle. You couldn't even find your way from your house to the mall, let alone navigate in the dark in a strange building in *Star Wars*!"

  
  


Laura turned and planted her hands on her hips with an indignant stance unique to her. "Oh, really? The mall was very difficult to find, I'll have you know, and--" She cut off with a snort. "Well, then, how well do you think *you'd* do at getting us out of here?"

  
  


"Certainly better than this," Danielle retorted. "I'd at least--"

  
  


"Hush," Laura said suddenly, cutting her off.

  
  


Danielle glared at her. "I will not 'hush,' thank you very much! Just because you've managed to get us lost--again--and can't seem to take the blame for it--"

  
  


"I mean, *shut up*!" Laura whispered furiously. "There's something behind you."

  
  


Danielle froze. "What kind of something?" she asked as quietly as she could.

  
  


"Well, it's glowing. And I hear this strange noise . . ."

  
  


Danielle didn't turn around, but she cocked her ear, listening. Surely, she heard a faintly rustling, scratching noise making its way toward them. As she imagined what it might possibly be, her heart suddenly clenched, and she gave a small whimper. "Laura . . ."

  
  


"Oh God," the other young woman whispered.

  
  


Somehow, through some strength of will, Danielle turned--and was confronted by the most horrible vision she'd ever encountered. A gigantic spider had emerged from the darkness, easily Aragog-sized, and looked at the two intruders into its lair quite hungrily.

  
  


There was a pause as the intrepid escapees pondered what to do. Then, they did what practically any young women would do when faced with a nine-foot tall, glowing-eyed, slavering spider: they turned tail and ran like maniacs, with the monstrous spider in hot pursuit.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Several minutes later, the two girls were in another room no less than three levels up, leaning against the wall and panting in the dim light.

  
  


"That," Laura gasped between breaths, "was the most traumatic experience I've had recently. And that's really saying something."

  
  


Danielle, still too shaken to reply, just nodded jerkily.

  
  


As they stood in the light regaining their breath, Danielle took the opportunity to study her friend better. In the better light, she could see the cloak she'd earlier mistaken for black was in fact a dark sienna, of some coarse weave that was extremely out of place in a galaxy of slick synthetic fabrics. Beneath the robe she wore simple pants and a tight black shirt, and the shirt's very clinginess allowed Danielle to notice something that shocked her: Laura was thin. Laura had never been fat, but neither had she been skinny like Danielle and Annie were. Now, Laura was beyond skinny: she looked nearly emaciated. Danielle could see the faint outline of her ribs beneath the thin material of the shirt, and her hipbones and clavicle were unusually prominent as well. Looking closer at her friend's face, she realized there were hollows beneath her cheekbones that had never before been present, and dark circles were barely evident under her eyes. There was also something slightly different about her, something just a little . . . off.

  
  


In the time that they'd been in Star Wars, Annie had begun to resemble a diva while Krista and Danielle developed the muscle their training necessitated. Laura, on the other hand, seemed to have lost the muscle she'd once possessed as the only sporty member of their group, as well as any accompanying curve, as though she'd simply stopped eating . . . and suddenly Danielle's stomach dropped in a distinct sensation that something here was terribly wrong.

  
  


Before she could find her voice to question her friend, she noticed that Laura was studying her with a faintly bemused expression. At Danielle's quizzical look, she explained, "I can hardly believe I'm finally seeing you. I've been looking for you for so long . . ."

  
  


Danielle felt suddenly guilty. "We actually haven't been searching for you very long at all. Not that we didn't mean to; we've just been really busy--"

  
  


"Wait a minute," Laura said suspiciously. "Who's 'we'?"

  
  


"Me and Krista and Annie."

  
  


Laura looked flabbergasted. "You mean--you're all together?"

  
  


Danielle felt unexpectedly guilty. "Well, yeah--but we really haven't been for very long. I mean, it was only a few days ago Annie finally joined us, and Krista came a few weeks before that . . ."

  
  


A strange expression crossed Laura's face. "How long, exactly, have you been here? In this galaxy?"

  
  


"In Star Wars, you mean? Just over three months." Danielle looked at Laura quizzically, whose face had now gone slightly white. "How long have you--"

  
  


A crash nearby sent both their heads whipping around. "Dammit," Laura muttered. "Time to get moving, Danielle."

  
  


Reluctantly, Danielle pushed her questions aside. "Do you know where we are now?"

  
  


Laura squinted, assessing their location, then nodded firmly. "Yup. We're almost near my ship, in fact. Come on; last wind and whatnot." Beckoning with a gloved hand, she took off once more, Danielle unhappily following.

  
  


After some twisting navigation through a series of unused, office-like rooms, they emerged into a well-lit hallway. At the end of the hallway was a huge glass window through which sunlight poured.

  
  


"This is our exit," Laura whispered. "My ship's on a platform just down there," she pointed out the window, "and at the end of this hall is a staircase that takes us there." Eyes narrowed intently, she started across the hall, and Danielle followed.

  
  


Halfway to their destination, Danielle froze, the Force sending tingling premonitions up her spine. Laura turned when she realized her friend had stopped. "What is it?"

  
  


"We're in trouble," Danielle whispered.

  
  


Laura looked over Danielle's shoulder--and her face set itself in an expression of grim resignation. Danielle turned--and stifled a scream when she saw three of the horrific faceless creations standing silently in the hall, watching them.

  
  


"Oh, no," Laura whispered.

  
  


Danielle glanced at her. "What can they do? They're like automatons. They--"

  
  


Laura simply pointed, and Danielle turned to watch. Slowly, all three faceless figures bowed their heads, then remained in that position, motionless, for a few minutes. When they looked back up, they were no longer faceless--they all had the hard countenances of battle-trained warriors, and, as she stared, all drew long weapons from their persons and held them at the ready.

  
  


"You see," Laura said rather calmly, "the annoying thing about these guys is that, since they've had their personalities stripped from them, their master can simply summon any of the people he's ever consumed and give any of his servants their forms, talents, abilities . . . and command them, like so." She gestured as the figures began to advance, slowly.

  
  


"What do we do?" Danielle hissed.

  
  


Laura glanced behind them, toward the end of the hall that beckoned with its freedom. "Well, right now I think we run."

  
  


As if on cue, doors slammed open behind them, and three more of the figures stepped out, surrounding the girls.

  
  


"This," Laura said with a sigh, "is not going at all like I'd hoped."

  
  


Danielle, in the spirit of Star Wars, couldn't help saying, "This is some rescue."

  
  


Laura glared at her. "You're training as a Jedi, right?"

  
  


"Yes. Why?"

  
  


"It means I can expect you to be able to stay alive if I can't look out for you for a few minutes." Ignoring her friend's glare, Laura slowly drew her gun. "Let's do this," she said grimly; and, as one being, the two girls launched into motion.

  
  


Laura, armed, took advantage of the fact that their adversaries seemed to only have short range weapons by keeping as far away as she could to fire. The wraiths, however, seemed to simply swirl away from her shots or catch them on their long, metallic weapons, into which they simply dissolved. In the first few minutes she had before the two sides of the line closed in, she only managed to hit one before one drew close enough to kick her weapon from her hand.

  
  


Unarmed, Danielle decided the best defense was a good offense, and simply launched herself at the nearest and smallest wraith. It swung its machete-like weapon at her viciously, and she dodged by dropping to the ground, then kicked its feet out from under it. As the wraith fell, Danielle scrambled for its weapon, but only succeeded in knocking it farther down the hall.

  
  


Laura, meanwhile, now weaponless, was forced to face an armed wraith just as Danielle had. Ducking two rapid swings with the blade, she then kicked the wraith squarely in its midsection. As it fell back, a lucky grab gained her its blade, and she ruthlessly stabbed down into the creature's heart. Instead of a dying moan, it made a sigh like a long-withheld gasp of relief, and for one brief moment its hardened features flickered away and a young man looked at Laura in gratitude . . . then he slumped to the floor, dead.

  
  


Slightly shaken, Laura turned and found another wraith bearing down on her and barely blocked its swing in time. As their blades were locked, she lanced another vicious kick at its legs, and the crack of its kneecap breaking echoed throughout the hall. As the wraith staggered away, Danielle, across the room, succeeded in stunning her opponent long enough to grab the weapon and then scrambled away, panting.

  
  


The two girls, now armed, faced four uninjured wraiths and one slightly incapacitated one, all also armed. Almost as one being the five wraiths lunged into attack, and the girls were hard-pressed to defend themselves with every blow directed at them. Both were skilled, but no matter how viciously or tirelessly they fought, they were grievously outnumbered.

  
  


"Danielle!" Laura yelled above the melee. "Can you run?"

  
  


"Yeah," Danielle shouted back, "but they're all around us! We can't go anywhere!"

  
  


"We can make an opening!" Laura cried. Then, her voice still slightly gleeful despite the seriousness of their situation, she instructed, "Use the Force!"

  
  


Danielle understood immediately what her friend was asking. When Laura yelled, "NOW!" she paused her exertions long enough to extend a hand, focus, and knock three of the wraiths out of their way. As Laura used its shock to stab another in the gut, they took off running down the hall toward the vast window, the wraiths quickly in pursuit.

  
  


"Now what?" Danielle yelled. "They'll catch us!"

  
  


"No they won't!" Laura yelled. "Look!"

  
  


Grabbing Danielle's hand, she pointed with her other--and to Danielle's astonishment she felt the Force ripple out of her without her command, channeling through the other girl. She tried to slow down as the realized they were getting dangerously close to the large glass window at the end of the hall, but Laura tugged her relentlessly forward . . . and the glass window exploded under the pressure of the Force just as the two girls dove through it.

  
  


Danielle sucked in a breath to scream as she felt them free-falling through the air--then, hard enough to sprain her ankle, her feet hit solid ground, staggering her. Laura gave her no mercy time, however, instantly dragging her along what Danielle quickly realized was some kind of repair scaffolding. Above, they heard the wordless cries of the wraiths, but Laura didn't look back. After only a few running paces they turned the corner, and instantly a gleaming ship came into view; it was a small and extraordinarily battered-looking two-seater, but Danielle recognized its sleek lines as being of a well-respected company known for speed and agility.

  
  


Laura flung herself into the pilot's seat and scarcely waited for Danielle to seat herself before she was powering the ship up, flipping switches with blinding speed and warming the engines so quickly Danielle could hear them whine in protest. Amazed at the swiftness with which her friend worked, Danielle could only watch as, within a matter of seconds, they were airborne, and Laura yanked the accelerator back, launching them into open space so swiftly their thrusters left a scorch mark on the walls of the building.

  
  


At first Danielle merely flattened herself into the seat, unable to speak with how fast they were going and how daringly her friend, so contained behind the wheel of a car, was driving. As soon as they were several blocks away, however, Laura relaxed visibly, slowing their headlong flight and easing smoothly into a normal lane of traffic. The wind of their passage whipped Danielle's loose hair, and she irritably pushed it from her eyes. Laura, whose long brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, did not have this problem, and against the ebbing light of the sun her profile was shockingly confident and unaffected.

  
  


"Won't they follow us?" Danielle asked, somewhat panicky.

  
  


"No," Laura replied, her voice strangely eased. "They wouldn't dare, here in the main thoroughfare where anyone could see them. We are in the main part of Coruscant, after all. Besides, I set up a little distraction for them--they'll keep busy for a while."

  
  


"Distraction?" Danielle asked stupidly.

  
  


"Well, yeah--you didn't think I got in there just on wit and charm, did you? I didn't have time to plan much, but a friend agreed to help while I got you out. Sith only knew how long I had before that horrendous creature did something unspeakable to you."

  
  


Danielle was feeling more than a little overwhelmed again. "Oh. Right. Laura--where are we going?"

  
  


"You're staying at the Jedi Temple, right? We need to get you back there as soon as possible. You need to be somewhere safe--and I mean *really* safe--where that monster can't get you. For now, at least, the Temple is safe. Besides, I have some . . . matters . . . I would like to discuss with certain persons in the Temple. And, moreover, you need to get that ankle tended to as quickly as possible." She nodded at her friend's ankle, which had already started to swell and throbbed distractingly.

  
  


Danielle sat silently for a few minutes, processing; then, when she finally spoke, it all came out in a flood. "Laura, *what's going on?* Who's the friend that's helping you? How do you know all this? How long have you been here? How do you know where I've been? If you know that, why haven't you come and *told* me? Where have you BEEN?"

  
  


Laura blinked at this rapid interrogation. "Okay, whoa now, only one question at a time. What's your first?"

  
  


Danielle looked at Laura appraisingly. "Who was that man--thing--back there?"

  
  


Laura was quiet for a minute. "I'm not exactly certain," she replied at last, her hazel eyes slightly distant. "His name--at least, the name I know him by--is Atharca, or some other unpronounceable thing. He's head of a pretty hefty organization whose only goal, as far as I know, is chaos: the utter disruption of the Republic and the plunging of the galaxy into anarchy and darkness."

  
  


"What does he want with me?"

  
  


Laura shot her a sloe-eyed glance as she considered her next words for a moment, and for the first time it occurred to Danielle that her friend might not be telling her everything she knew . . . or even lying outright. "I don't know for sure, but I think . . . I think he knows you're not from this galaxy, and he thinks he can use that, somehow."

  
  


"He does," Danielle said, feeling slightly ill. "He told me . . . he told me he's going to use my pendant to get back to our galaxy."

  
  


Laura's hands were suddenly white-knuckled on the steering wheel. She whispered a word Danielle had never heard her use before, and her eyes turned murderous. "He'll never get away with that."

  
  


"What *is* he? He's not human, and he--he seems almost omnipotent."

  
  


"He's fairly close," Laura said grimly, "but that little margin of error is enough to take him down. And trust me--given enough time, we will."

  
  


Danielle looked at Laura for a long time. "Laura, how on earth do you know all this?"

  
  


Laura sighed quietly as she switched lanes, bringing them into a part of Coruscant Danielle recognized. "I've been here a while. I'm beginning to gain a little experience. Sometimes . . . sometimes, it feels like home, horrible as that is."

  
  


"I know, I feel the same way," Danielle concurred. "How long have you been here, exactly? We all seem to be different on that. I've been here over three months, Krista just under three, and Annie only about two--or negative thirty-something, if you remember time travel. How about you?"

  
  


Laura's expression was utterly blank for some time, then a strange, nameless emotion filled her eyes. "I . . . well, if I remember correctly, I've been here for three years."

  
  


At first, this didn't exactly sink in, and she just sat in silence trying to absorb it. When she succeeded, Danielle felt like she'd been gut-punched. "You've . . . oh, God, Laura, three *years*?"

  
  


Laura shrugged slightly, and suddenly Danielle understood the slight change in her features, her accent and tonalities. "I . . . I just assumed the rest of you had been as well. I looked for you for so long . . . I began to think I was never going to find any of you. Then, when I heard you . . . heard where you were, I mean . . . I rushed in to help before it was too late. But at least I've found you at last, and all of this will end soon."

  
  


Danielle just shook her head. "What do you mean, this will all end soon?"

  
  


"You don't know?" Laura closed her eyes briefly, rather dangerous when driving a speeder several miles above the ground, but apparently necessary for dramatic effect. "Well. I'm sure that will change when we get back to the Temple."

  
  


"What? Laura, what's going on?"

  
  


Laura shook her head. "Explanations later; we're almost there. What's the fastest way to get inside? There are some people I need to talk to without having to go through red tape or some sort of screening process."

  
  


"I have voice recognition to get me into a special hangar bay," Danielle admitted. "No one should stop us before we reach my quarters."

  
  


"Direct me there," Laura said, and Danielle did.

  
  


When they had parked and exited the ship, Danielle led Laura at a near-run up to her room, ignoring the surprised glances or yells of any Jedi they passed. At the door, she said, "Now, I just need to run in and see if anyone's home or leave a quick note, and then we can get you to--"

  
  


Mid-sentence, the door swung open, and Danielle found herself facing a stunned Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.

  
  


For a moment, no one moved; then, in a mass of shocked gasps and delighted laughter, Danielle was yanked inside and crushed in two pairs of strong arms until the breath was nearly wrung from her.

  
  


When they were coherent, Obi-Wan finally managed, "Danielle, Force help me, I was so worried. We didn't know what had happened, where you were, no one could sense you--we were just about to go out looking--"

  
  


"It's all right, I'm okay," she said breathlessly, having forgotten all about Laura. "Obi--it's the man who's been orchestrating all the attacks, the one in the Temple in everything. He kidnaped me and held me in some building right here on Coruscant. He's the head of some kind of organization, they have all these plans . . ." Abruptly she noticed that they'd each packed the light knapsack they usually took with them on missions and were wearing their long robes. "Uh, were you going somewhere?"

  
  


"Before we received word that you were missing, the Council assigned us on a very important mission," Qui-Gon said gravely. "It seems the Trade Federation has greatly overstepped its bounds and blockaded Naboo, the planet of your young friend Queen Amidala. She is already on her way back to her planet to attempt to negotiate with them, and we will follow as soon as we may, to convey a message for Chancellor Valorum."

  
  


For the second time within a few minutes a wave of nausea swept over Danielle, freezing her limbs. "Oh God, we're too late," she gasped, dizzily. "We're too late, it's started."

  
  


"What's started? Danielle, what do you know of this matter?"

  
  


"I believe what she is trying to say," a voice said coolly from the doorway, "is that you cannot go on this mission."

  
  


Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon both turned, shocked, and registered that an unfamiliar young woman had just entered the room without their knowledge. "I'm sorry I didn't knock, but I thought since the door was open, I may as well just come in," she said, a hint of dryness in her voice. "Well, well, well. Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi." She flashed a strange glance at Danielle and then a half-smirk at the Jedi. "If I'd known you were rooming with these two, I'd have begged an introduction, or at least an autograph."

  
  


They stared at her like she'd grown another head. "What did you say?" Qui-Gon finally managed.

  
  


"Which part? Oh, about Danielle's attempts to articulate? She doesn't want you to go--and I don't know if you've figured this out yet, but when she tells you that you oughtn't do something, you'd damn well better listen."

  
  


Danielle had, with good reason, expected Obi-Wan to treat Laura just as he had Krista and Annie: to welcome her, and inquire good-naturedly after how many other young women Danielle would be dragging into the mix. To her utter shock, however, he narrowed his eyes in an expression that could only be called suspicion and eyed Laura coldly. "Who, exactly, are you?"

  
  


Laura paused, clearly considering this, and Danielle waited to hear what her friend would say, what obscure part of Star Wars she had spent the last three years in. At last, Laura seemed to reach some decision, and looked directly at Obi-Wan with a quiet but somehow feral smile.

  
  


"Why, it's funny we've never met before, really, since we've been working in rather the same circles for several years now. I'm Senator Palpatine's aide."


	17. All for one

A/N: By this point I hope thanks for reading this story are simply implied, but I'll say it again anyway. I also owe an apology to anyone confused by the reference to Arthur Miller in last chapter's title; I was referring to the Crucible, and the terrible witchcraft trials it depicts. My own story was a pathetic attempt at mimicking that. Apologies all around. This chapter, I'm afraid, does get a bit more serious: I've tried to keep the humor, but plot is definitely driving this baby now, especially as it will be over it not too many chapters. Hang on; it's gonna be a wild ride . . .

  
  


Now, I would like to extend thanks to everyone who's reviewed thus far, and who continues to read. To those of you I know, I send my love; to those of you I don't, my especial thanks for reading this. (And, I would just like to point out, if you care to read the reviews, LAURA is one lovely reviewer's favorite character. Snerk.)

  
  
  
  


SOUNDTRACK: Back by popular request! Stirring Mexican guitar music (think 'Once Upon A Time in Mexico' or something similar); The Hall of the Mountain King; and, at the end, the Emperor's theme and Light of the Force. (Many thanks to everyone who howled for Mr. Zevon, as well. I'm sure he's howling back from his grave as I write.)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hold on to your hats, everyone; you ain't seen nothin' yet.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


SEVENTEEN

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Danielle felt the breath leave her in a rush. She opened her mouth to speak, to shout a denial, or maybe to scream, but no sound emerged, so finally she just shut it again. Across the room, Laura met her burning gaze with an emotionless one, and then she gave Danielle a quick, fleeting smile, like a reassurance, that startled her into returning it.

  
  


For a moment, no one spoke, then Obi-Wan tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes narrowing.

  
  


"Funny, but I've never met you, and I'm acquainted with his other assistants. Besides, Palpatine is a very public figure these days. How could it be I've never heard of you?"

  
  


Laura met his gaze evenly, her expression revealing no hesitation or uncertainty. "I'm his personal aide, and consequently there is no need for me to attend the Senate or appear in public more than is absolutely necessary. I've no need of publicity."

  
  


"I see," he said evenly; then silence reigned for a moment more. Certainly it was not the kind of atmosphere Danielle would have expected.

  
  


At last, Danielle said, slightly choked, "So . . . how long have you held this office . . . ah . . . Laura?"

  
  


A ghost of a smile touched Laura's face, and it showed genuine warmth for the first time in the conversation. "About three years," she responded quietly. "And it's Aide McGregor to the likes of you."

  
  


"'McGregor'?" Danielle echoed, amused in spite of herself.

  
  


Laura shrugged. "Well, when one is in a pinch . . ."

  
  


Now Qui-Gon interrupted. "Pardon me, but I should very much like to know exactly what you are doing here in Danielle's company and what you have to do with her recent kidnaping."

  
  


Laura's expression turned frosty again. "Stuff the suspicion, Jedi. You don't need to worry about me--and even if you did, I'm certainly the least of your worries. I had nothing to do with kidnaping Danielle--in fact, I'm the one who rescued her . . . or, rather, helped her rescue herself. Ask her."

  
  


"She's telling the truth," Danielle hastily added. "Laura's another old friend of mine."

  
  


Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged glances. At last, Obi-Wan burst out, "Danielle, don't you think it's time you dropped the amnesia charade? All these people you remember who remember you . . . it's becoming rather clear that there is absolutely nothing wrong with your memory."

  
  


Before Danielle could reply, Laura looked at her quizzically. "Amnesia?"

  
  


Danielle sighed. "When I first . . . arrived here, they found me lying unconscious in a street nearby the temple. I couldn't remember where I was or how I got there . . . only my name." She looked at Laura significantly.

  
  


Laura blinked. "But you're from Naboo, right?" she said in a strange tone of voice.

  
  


"Well, yeah, I remember that now." Suddenly she realized something. "But how do you . . ." Remembering this was a thing she shouldn't discuss in front of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, she recovered rather poorly. "Uh . . . never mind."

  
  


Laura's eyebrow soared skyward. "And again I intervene to tell you, dear Jedi, that Danielle is definitely on your side. Sometimes the truth, however, actually impedes the right thing being done. Even when Danielle herself can't articulate well enough to tell you that."

  
  


Obi-Wan's suspicion turned into unwilling interest. "All right. I'll accept that for the moment. So, Danielle, why shouldn't we go on this extremely important mission the Chancellor himself requested of us?"

  
  


Danielle struggled for an answer that wouldn't give too much away. "Because . . . because it's a set-up, I'm pretty sure. That evil man who held me captive talked to me, and since he didn't think I was going to escape he implied all these things: that he intended to attack you on this mission, that there was something evil behind the trade federation--" Abruptly she gasped, remembering something. "Oh my God, Krista and Annie! He said--he told me they were in trouble, they were dying--!"

  
  


Everyone in the room instantly snapped to attention. Qui-Gon said soothingly, "Danielle, he can't possibly--" as Obi-Wan cried, "What's happening to them?" and Laura asked grimly, "Where are they?"

  
  


Ignoring them all, Danielle fumbled frantically for the lightsaber which was not, of course, at her belt. "We have to go to them, help them! That man doesn't lie--he certainly doesn't need to. He can do things, he knows things--we have to find them!"

  
  


"I certainly hope," a blessedly familiar voice drawled from the doorway, "that you weren't speaking of us. Because we are, as you of course know, perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves."

  
  


They all turned incredulously to face the door . . . and there, sure enough, were a rather worse-for-wear Dru, Annie, Krista, and Wes, the latter of whom was regarding the proceedings with resignation. Dru, who had spoken, cocked an eyebrow with a grin.

  
  


Danielle choked, "Krista! Annie!" and a very sloppy hugging reunion ensued. Over the melee, Wes remarked coolly, "I should like to point out that their concern was merited--if not for my as always timely intervention, you would undoubtedly be crispy martyrs right now."

  
  


Dru patted him on the arm consolingly. "We know, Wes, we know. We're all in awe of your skills. All hail the mighty Wesley and all that. We're just too busy to grovel at your feet right now."

  
  


As the three girls separated, the room's other occupants looked on in wonder. "You're all right," Danielle said tearfully. "I was so worried . . . that evil man said . . ."

  
  


"Man? What man?" Krista said, bemused. "There weren't any men where we were. Just spindly people and munchkin werewolves. Kinda made me miss just plain old 'evil men,' really."

  
  


This statement was generally ignored. "You've returned early," Qui-Gon said to Wes in some surprise. "The Council didn't think you'd be back for another month at least."

  
  


"Well, our darling prophet here convinced me to return home in all haste," Wes replied, gesturing at Annie. "And we all know not to ignore her advice."

  
  


Danielle, meantime, had discovered an interesting thing. "Uh, guys? Why is your clothing singed? And--Krista--I think some of your hair--"

  
  


As Krista examined her hair in alarm, Annie simply laughed. "We didn't even have time to change, we pell-melled it back here so quick," Dru said, with no small amount of annoyance. "To, of course, meet some emergency situation of which I see no evidence. Well, ladies?"

  
  


"We made it in time," Annie said, relieved, pointing to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. "They haven't left yet."

  
  


"You're trying to stop us leaving, too?" Qui-Gon said, amazed. "How many people in this group can see the future, exactly?"

  
  


"In this particular circumstance," Laura drawled, speaking for the first time since the others' arrival, "I believe that would be all of us."

  
  


The newcomers turned and looked at her, surprised that they hadn't noticed her earlier--and Annie's jaw dropped slightly as Krista's eyes bugged.

  
  


For a moment, no one spoke--then, finally, Laura cracked, a faint smile appearing on her face and her eyes glistening suspiciously. "Hey, babes. How's it going?"

  
  


Annie whispered, "Laura!" at the same time Krista choked, "Buddy!" They stared at her for a moment longer; then, with the momentum of a shotgun, Krista launched herself at Laura, knocking the much larger girl clean off her feet. Annie wasn't much behind.

  
  


"You're alive, you're here, you're alright!" Krista yelped joyously, gleefully strangling her friend. "We thought--Goddammit, Laura, you gave us a scare!"

  
  


Annie wrapped her arms more gently around the mass entity that Laura and Krista had now become. "I'm so glad you're all right," she agreed, beaming. "Now we're all here at last."

  
  


Laura, naturally, replied, "Ughhmmafffuggff!" which was all that she was capable of replying while Krista had her in such a tight grip.

  
  


Krista drew back slightly, allowing Laura to both breathe and use her arms to hug her friends back. "Gods, you guys don't know how much I've missed you."

  
  


Annie drew back, looking suddenly indignant. "Don't you? So you were here all along, huh?"

  
  


Laura looked at her, surprised. "Well, most of the time, yes."

  
  


Krista narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute. Do you mean to tell me we went on that freaking mission--did all that crappy stuff like fighting squirrels and being burned at the stake--for *nothing*? You were here THE WHOLE TIME?"

  
  


Laura was fighting a snarky grin with little success. "All this," she gestured at their crispy-fried and otherwise unkempt appearances, "because you went looking for me? I'm touched, really I am. I was gallantly rescuing Danielle here at the same time you were trying to rescue me. My knights in shining armor! So it's love all around then. Yay."

  
  


Dru scratched her head, a rather comical effect on the haughty-featured young woman. "Uh . . . I thought we went on that mission to investigate Kamino, not to look for some girl. And last time I checked it was *my* mission." When they all just stared at her, Dru turned to Wes. "I'm not crazy, right, Wes?"

  
  


"No, I though that too, Dru. Guess we're just out of the loop."

  
  


"Anyway," Obi-Wan said rather loudly, "don't you think it's time we got back to the point at hand? Young Aide McGregor here--" He was cut off mid-sentence as Annie guffawed and Krista snorted loudly. "What?" he asked, mildly irritated.

  
  


"It's just--Aide McGregor?" Krista giggled evilly, a feat which she was astonishingly good at. "Gettin' a little ambitious, aren't we, Laura? And since when are you an Aide?"

  
  


Laura shrugged. "As I told Danielle, I was inspired by my . . . unusual circumstances. And I've been an Aide for no less than three years."

  
  


Again there was silence as the newcomers absorbed this fact. "Three years?" Annie said quietly. "Oh, Laura. We . . ."

  
  


"I know," Laura said, waving her aside. "Danielle and I have already discussed all this."

  
  


"Wait a minute," Krista said suddenly. "Aide . . . ?"

  
  


"To Senator Palpatine," Laura returned expressionlessly.

  
  


Krista just looked blank as Annie stared. "Oh," she said at last. "Okay. Good to know."

  
  


"Wait a minute," Krista cut in suddenly, her voice unwarrantedly loud. "Isn't that the dude who--?"

  
  


"Yes!" Danielle cut her off sharply.

  
  


"Well," Krista said, a little annoyed, "it sounds like we've been missing all the fun. What's been happening while we were gone?"

  
  


"Quite a bit," Laura shrugged, amused. "Too bad you were off rescuing me."

  
  


"Since," Wes suddenly cut in loudly, "there doesn't seem to be any particular emergency at this moment, would anyone mind if we reported to the Council? I believe they need to hear of this unusual chain of events?" He looked pointedly at Laura, who met his gaze with some surprise. "And you, young lady, have quite an interesting story to tell, I think."

  
  


A strange, almost hunted expression flickered across Laura's face. "No. I . . . I'd rather not meet the Council, at least not yet. I have business elsewhere anyway, so if no one minds--"

  
  


As she began edging sideways toward the door, Krista's arm suddenly shot out and grabbed her, holding her fast. "I don't think so," Krista said threateningly. "You're not going anywhere, not after we just found you."

  
  


When it seemed Laura was making a sincere effort to free herself from Krista's grasp, Danielle immediately went to her other side, penning her in. "No, really. You can stay here in our apartment and rest up a while." As Annie joined them, effectively entrapping Laura, Danielle said, "We insist."

  
  


Laura looked at them all, a vaguely panicked expression on her face, before she suddenly straightened, shrugging. "Well. It's all the same to me. I'll be here when you get back."

  
  


"We're not quite that stupid," Danielle said warningly. "I think we'll just stay here with you, if you don't mind."

  
  


For a moment Laura looked at them, astonished, before she suddenly grinned. "Well, I seem to have been outmaneuvered. Very well, ladies. We'll have a little chat."

  
  


"Jolly good," Wes drawled, clearly impatient with the proceedings. "If everyone is now thoroughly satisfied with the state of affairs, let us proceed before we are removed from the active duty roster for being remiss in our duties."

  
  


Qui-Gon shot Danielle a worried look. "Danielle--"

  
  


"It's all right, Qui-Gon," Danielle said soothingly, "we'll explain when you get back." She gave Laura a little jostle, making the other girl jump slightly. "Won't we?"

  
  


Laura smiled feebly. "Hoo boy, yeah."

  
  
  
  
  
  


As soon as the Jedi had departed, not without a lingering stare at Laura from Wes and Dru, the three girls released Laura.

  
  


"So," Krista said, serious for once, "three years, huh? How does that work?"

  
  


"Well, I was thirty or so years in the future," Annie said with a shrug. 

  
  


Laura looked at her in shock. "Wait a minute. You were in the *future*?"

  
  


"Well, yeah." She beamed at Laura. "I was a diva, on Tatooine. And, oh, oh! I met Luke!"

  
  


Laura stared at her in shock and what probably was jealousy. "Luke *Skywalker*?"

  
  


"The very same. And ghostly Obi-Wan, too. They were both really nice."

  
  


"That's cool, but . . . how did you get here? Or now, I suppose is the right question."

  
  


"Funny, I wondered that myself. We think the scary man who kidnaped Danielle sent me back, because he's the last thing I remember before waking up in this time. Then I met Dru and Wes, and now I'm here." She shrugged.

  
  


Laura's eyes narrowed. "That man does get around, doesn't he? Ah, well. And you, Krista? What have you been up to?"

  
  


Krista scowled, but her eyes were sparkling. "I have been a handmaiden, thank you very much."

  
  


Laura stared for a moment, then a grin fought its way to the surface. "No, really."

  
  


"I'm not kidding. Fancy dresses, makeup, and the whole shebang. Wanna see a pirouette?"

  
  


"Very much!" Laura said enthusiastically, but Danielle cut her off sternly. "Maybe some other time. We have more important stuff to talk about now."

  
  


Laura looked appropriately abashed, but Krista was unrepentant. "So that's where we were all sent, I guess. But why? "

  
  


Annie shrugged. "Apparently we were just sent to whatever time our necklaces felt like sending us."

  
  


"No," Laura said, and the decisiveness in her voice startled them all. "They sent us to exactly where we were needed, and nowhere else."

  
  


They stared at her. "You sound so certain," Danielle said, suspiciously.

  
  


"Well, that's because I am." When Danielle remained skeptical, Laura sighed. "Look, I've been here a while longer than you guys, right? I've had a fair amount of time to research, and I pretty much know what's going on."

  
  


"You do?" Krista said, shocked. Then, deciding there was no use in beating around the bush, she asked, "Well, what *is* going on?"

  
  


Laura looked shifty again. "That's . . . really complicated to explain."

  
  


"But you know how we can get home!" Annie said suddenly, the shock of it overwhelming her.

  
  


"Well, that one's pretty obvious," Krista snorted. "Now that we're all here, we just join our pretty necklaces together again and ZAP!--we're right back where we started, at home on earth."

  
  


"Oh, no," Laura said warningly. "It's not half so simple. If we joined these lovely necklaces together, we *would* go back where we started--but not on Earth."

  
  


When everyone just looked at her, Laura sighed impatiently. "Oh, for heaven's sake. Haven't you noticed? Annie, your pendant has a sun. Where did you go? Tatooine. Pretty appropriate, don't you think? Krista, your flower sent you to be a precious little handmaiden on Naboo. Danielle's go the symbol of the Jedi Temple--and that's exactly where she ended up. They're like homing beacons, programmed to go to exactly one spot. If we put them together again, activated them, we'd just go back to the exact location and time where we first arrived in Star Wars. And, personally," she grimaced, "I don't have any desire to relive the last three years before finding you guys again."

  
  


"So, what's it been like, living with Mister Evil Emperor himself?" Krista asked, lightly. "Maniacal laughter all the time? Black leather and spandex and chains when you're not in public? Nefarious schemes? Oh--" her face turned rapturous. "Did you have minions?"

  
  


Laura rolled her eyes deprecatingly. That single expression told her companions everything they needed to know, and they relaxed. "Torturously boring and just otherwise hideous. The man is a slimeball, but he's not an especially evil slimeball yet, so it's not like I can turn him in or anything. And even if I did have anything on him, who would believe his lowly aide? He'd snuff me out before anyone even paid me any attention. So, the last three years have been really, really bad, thanks for asking."

  
  


"I'm sorry," Annie said, genuinely sympathetic. "You don't seem to have been having as much fun as us."

  
  


"Oh, I've had my share of fun, don't worry," Laura said with a wicked grin, "but it's been tempered, let me tell you. Research, monotony, blah blah blah. It just figures I'd get the worst deal of the lot, doesn't it?"

  
  


"You did get us into this, after all," Krista reminded her. "But what I want to know about is Danielle being captured. You mentioned something about it earlier. What happened? Who captured you?"

  
  


Danielle frowned. "I was trying to research our necklaces myself and I went to this one professor's house to ask him about it, but there was an ambush waiting for me there. There were these people without faces, and they got me and took me to that same scary dude you met on Tatooine, Annie."

  
  


Annie went white. "Wait. You mean he's *here*?"

  
  


"Yes," Danielle said grimly, "living just a few minutes away from the Temple, in fact. Anyway, when I woke up he was in the room with me and he told me he knew who I was and where I was from, and that he was going to use me to get back to earth and take it over. He wants to rule the galaxy here, too, and he's got a whole bunch of the faceless people working for him--explain what those are, Laura."

  
  


Laura's face was blank. "You must know by now that he has unnatural skills, such as time travel and the ability to metamorphose. Well, that power comes from his primary ability--to strip the humanity from a person and claim it as his own. In this manner, he gains all the knowledge, intelligence, and skills of every person he strips, while he leaves them as a mere husk, only worthwhile when he commands them to take the form of someone he has previously consumed."

  
  


Annie stared, unbelieving, as Krista looked ill. "That's . . ." she began, but trailed off, unable to think of a word bad enough. "Shit," she finally whispered at last.

  
  


"Yeah," Danielle said, feelingly. "Well, he left and I tried to escape, but a bunch of his guys caught me and would have taken me back to him when Laura showed up, out of the blue. It wasn't a very good rescue," she smirked at Laura, who rolled her eyes, "but it got the job done. So here we are, now."

  
  


"Wow," Annie said reverently. "And I thought we were in trouble, being burned as witches by werewolves."

  
  


"That's pretty bad too," Laura said, eyes wide. "You'll have to tell me that whole story some day."

  
  


Danielle's expression was intent. "Not right now, though. It's good to hear you're all right, Laura, but I think we need to know what you know about these necklaces. What are they? Who made them? How do they work? How did they end up in Earth? And how do you know so much about that--that Armand character?"

  
  


"His name is Atharca, but I'm sorry," Laura said firmly. "I'm afraid there's no time for that now. Just how long do these debriefings with the Council usually last, Danielle?"

  
  


Danielle blinked. "Uh . . . Well, they're different. For a mission this long, though, they'll probably be an hour or longer."

  
  


"Perfect. Guys, I'm sorry, but this just isn't the time for explanations. We have to do something."

  
  


There was a little pause as the other three girls exchanged glances. "Do something?" Annie finally asked. "Do what?"

  
  


"There are documents, in Palpatine's estate, that pretty well incriminate him--or at least they get the ball started rolling. We need to go get them."

  
  


An instant outcry of protest rose up at this. "Us? Go there? Are you crazy?" Annie demanded. Krista asked, "What documents?" and Danielle asked, "But why now? Didn't you just say no one would listen to you if you accused him? What's the point?"

  
  


Laura blinked, but assimilated the questions fairly well. "Yes, us, Annie," she responded somewhat irritably. "I know where they are, and I know he's away from the estate for a few days, dealing with the Nubian crisis. I want you guys to go with me to watch my back and also to give me some sort of excuse for skulking around--I can pretend I'm giving some friends a little informal tour. Bad me, but no nearly so bad me as if I get caught and all I have to say is, 'well, I'm stealing incriminating documents to get your ass in jail where it belongs, so sorry', if you catch my drift."

  
  


"What documents?" Krista repeated.

  
  


"That's--well, in general, they're pretty boring. He's better at hiding the really bad stuff. They're purchase receipts, communiques with suspicious individuals, etc. But it should be enough to head this thing off for a while."

  
  


"What thing?"

  
  


Laura looked at her. "Why, the war, of course. This--the invasion of Naboo--it's the first of the chain of events that lead to the Empire and the Jedi Purge. That," she glanced at Danielle, "is the answer to why we need to do this now. Right now, Palpatine's just a little fish, and no one would understand his motivations. But with all this mess with the Trade Federation--and some of those documents include communiques with them--people will start to realize there's more going on on Naboo than they'd thought. So that's why we go, now."

  
  


"But why *right* now, while we're alone?" Annie asked. "Why not wait and take Wes and Dru with us? They seem to be pretty good at getting out of tight spots."

  
  


Laura waved her hand. "Just think about it. For one thing, if I'm just caught with a few young women my age, I can pass you off as my friends no problem. If I show up with several Jedi in tow--that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish. Besides--what if they were caught there? Do you really want Obi or Qui at Palpatine's mercy? Or those other two Jedi, for that matter?"

  
  


"No," Danielle said vehemently, and Annie and Krista remembered how she had prevented them from letting Obi-Wan meet Darth Maul. "That can't happen."

  
  


"Then you understand why I want to go now?" When their expressions remained wary, her tone turned wheedling. "Come on, it's barely a fifteen minute flight. We'll be in, out, and back again before the Jedi ever know we're gone, and we might be able to keep everything from going to Hell."

  
  


"I'll go," Danielle agreed at last. "It sounds like a good idea to me. Besides, we can all take care of ourselves."

  
  


"I will too," Krista said, loyal but clearly still unhappy with the situation.

  
  


At last, Annie sighed. "Well, if you guys are all going, I guess I will," she conceded uncertainly. "I still don't think this is a good idea, that's all."

  
  


Laura's face lit up. "Thank you guys so much," she said, and her eyes glinted with what was either tears or wicked amusement. "Come on; we need to leave as quickly as possible."

  
  


"I guess we don't need to change, then," Krista said, a little sulkily.

  
  


"No, you're fine as you are. Come on!"

  
  


As Laura beckoned them to hurry, Danielle went into her room, opened a small drawer she kept locked, and drew out her old practice lightsaber. Buckling it to her waist, she emerged, feeling somehow much more prepared.

  
  


Laura, noticing what she'd retrieved, looked at Danielle curiously. "You really do know how to use it, then?" she asked, a faint note of surprise in her voice.

  
  


"I really do. I'm a fast learner."

  
  


"Very well," Laura said. "If no one else has any weapons handy, let's go."

  
  
  
  
  
  


In the hangar bay, a brief but important scuffle ensued over who would fly the speeder. When it was finished, a sulking Krista had been stuffed into the back seat and Laura, who actually knew the way, was flying. She took them off very smoothly and soon they were on their way, seemingly as though Laura did this quite often.

  
  


"How long did you say it would be?" Annie asked, over the roar of the wind.

  
  


"About fifteen minutes. We need to park a little ways away, though, so our speeder isn't spotted, so we'll have a tiny walk."

  
  


Thirteen minutes later, in fact, Laura pulled the speeder up in a parking lot outside an extremely posh neighborhood and they exited. Palpatine's estate was on a hovering plot of land reserved only for the insanely rich, being little more than a sod and grass-covered sheet of metal on repulsorlifts that gave the illusion one was actually living on the ground. At the center of the ground was the man's house, and various other buildings were scattered nearby. The entire thing was surrounded by a huge metal fence with security cameras posted at the main gate.

  
  


After so long living in humble circumstances, the magnificence of the land was intimidating to them, and it was odd seeing trees and grass again. Laura, however, was unfazed, and led the way to the hugely and very much locked gate surrounding the entire property. Within lay green grass, lovely flower gardens, and enchantingly pruned trees. Beyond all that lay a hugely sprawling house, complete with elegant veranda, white marble columns, overlooking balconies, and excessive wings--all of which indicated enormous wealth.

  
  


Before they could ask how she meant to get them inside, Laura beckoned them over to a very tiny and well-hidden side door and opened it with a key from inside her pocket. The girls filed through onto a well-manicured lawn, and she locked the door again behind them, pocketing the key.

  
  


"Follow me," she whispered. "The man himself isn't at home, but the estate is still staffed and guarded, so we're going to take a back way."

  
  


They nodded acknowledgment, and Laura led them on a winding path behind a row of decorative bushes along the out wall. After a few minutes' walking they came to the back of the magnificent house, which had a vast porch and a perfectly trimmed emerald lawn. They darted across the open grass up to the house itself, and Laura showed them an entrance that led into the kitchen; the cooks used it to take out trash after preparing meals. 

  
  


This door, being so small and inconspicuous, was unlocked, and they made it inside with little difficulty. The kitchen, an intimidating room full of modern cooking equipment which could easily have passed as torture devices, was luckily deserted at this time of day, and they passed through it unharmed.

  
  


From here Laura led them into a small passage the droid servants took the food along to the dining room, where it would be served. The dining room itself, a room vast as a ballroom with a magnificent oval table of some carved wood, was also empty except for innumerable Nubian portraits, many of Palpatine himself. When she spotted one of Amidala, Krista, disconcerted, half expected there to be a painting of the handmaidens as well. Luckily, there was not, but there was a marvelous suit of armor that Annie had to be physically dragged away from.

  
  


From the dining room Laura led them very cautiously into a long, thickly carpeted hall, also empty. The house itself seemed to be utterly deserted, and when Krista commented on this, Laura explained that not very many people remained when the Senator himself was absent. Most of his personal servants and clerks traveled with him, and extraneous members of the day staff remained at home. The droid cleaners remained, but few were programmed to even notice any intruders.

  
  


Down the hall was a staircase which Laura led them down for what seemed an eternity. At last, they reached the bottom, where there was a huge metal door with a keypad. Again, however, this proved no impediment, as Laura easily entered some type of code. The door swung open, soundlessly, and she beckoned the other three before her where they finally emerged, blinking, into a large, dimly lit room. It seemed to be utterly empty, and the far walls were so distant their exact contours were lost in shadow.

  
  


"Okay, where are we now?" Danielle asked irritably. "Don't tell me you're lost again."

  
  


Behind them, the huge door slammed shut as Laura allowed it to close. "Don't worry, we're not lost."

  
  


"Well, this isn't his office," Krista said, amused.

  
  


There was a strange rustling noise, and from behind them, Laura's voice was fathomless. "No. It isn't."

  
  


Krista turned, surprised, her mouth open to speak--and it simply stayed that way, no words emerging, when she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

  
  


For a moment none of them could comprehend what was happening. "Laura?" Annie said, her voice very small and unhappy. "What's going on?"

  
  


Laura, her hands unwavering on the gun, let her eyes flicker for a moment, but otherwise no emotion crossed her face. "I'm sorry," she said flatly.

  
  


Those two words were like a death knell. Instant understanding slammed into all three of the girls, and they stared at Laura in stunned horror, unable to even voice a protest through the shock. The world seemed to darken around them, as if they had strayed into a nightmare--for the sight of Laura pointing a blaster at them was simply not one that belonged in the real world, nor even this one.

  
  


Heart leaden inside her, Danielle stepped back, disbelieving. "No," she said, slowly, feeling the words catch in her throat and come out only with great difficulty. "No, this isn't right. Laura--"

  
  


Krista finally managed to tear her eyes away from the gun and look at Laura. "Laura? Buddy, have you gone nuts? What are you doing?"

  
  


This time Laura could not stop herself. An expression of genuine remorse and horror flickered across her face and was gone, nearly instantaneously. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, voice slightly ragged. After a moment, however, she recovered, and when she spoke again her voice was hard and unconcerned. "I'm afraid it was necessary to deceive you to get you here."

  
  


"Here?" Annie asked stupidly. "Why?"

  
  


Laura's eyes were cold and unforgiving--the eyes of a stranger, looking back at them from Laura's face. "You'll soon see. Now, I want all of you to step away, very slowly, and put your hands in the air."

  
  


Krista could take it no longer. "Laura, what *is* this? What's going on? Put that damn gun down and explain!"

  
  


Laura's eyes, as harsh as the winter wastelands of Hoth, flickered to hers. "What's going on is I'm taking you prisoner. You see, I'm afraid I lied to you--there are no important documents. There is no incriminating evidence. I just had to get you here without a fuss--and without those damn Jedi knowing where you'd gone. Thankfully," she smiled grimly, "you were all quite trusting, and I was quite successful."

  
  


"But why?" Annie asked, desperately. "Laura, please--"

  
  


"Enough," Laura said, and her voice was still calm but now malevolent. "No more questions. Step away, and put your hands in the air!"

  
  


For a small eternity, no one moved--then Danielle did, very rapidly. In the space of a heartbeat she stepped back and drew her lightsaber, holding it disengaged but ready before her.

  
  


Laura's expression, if it were possible, turned even blacker. "You don't want to do that, Danielle."

  
  


"Don't I?" Danielle asked, harshly. With a gesture, the gun was torn out of Laura's hands as she fumbled after it in astonishment. Sending the gun clattering into the distance, Danielle looked at Laura with equal cold fury. "You see, I really am a Jedi now, Laura. We're pretty hard to trick."

  
  


Laura stared at her, and her expression was bleak for a moment before it turned emotionless again. "I don't want to fight you, Danielle."

  
  


"Since I have a lightsaber and you're unarmed, I bet you don't," Danielle said harshly. "But we're not going to fight. You're going to lead us out of here, nice and slow, and we're all going back to the Jedi Temple, where you will tell us exactly what is going on."

  
  


Laura looked at her undaunted. "No," she said at last, "I think not." And, through the silence, she reached within the folds of her robes and drew forth a black cylinder disturbingly similar to the one Danielle carried.

  
  


Krista stared at her, uncomprehending, as Annie stepped back with a cry. Danielle, however, felt like she'd been dealt a physical blow. "Why do you have a lightsaber?" she spat, even though she feared she knew the truth. "How did you get it?"

  
  


Laura held the small cylinder disengaged in her hand, the position clearly a familiar one. "I'll say this one last time, Danielle. I don't want to fight you. Just put down your lightsaber and this can all end right now."

  
  


Danielle raised the hilt warningly, eyes fierce. "Never."

  
  


Laura's expression was equally unyielding. "Then I'm afraid you leave me no choice." And, with a strange feeling of finality, she depressed the button on her lightsaber, and a scarlet blade sprang forth.

  
  


"No," Annie said, raggedly, as Krista stared in comprehension but still disbelief. "Laura, no! What's happened to you?"

  
  


Laura glanced at them, and for a moment pain flickered into her eyes. "What happened is that the Dark Side is a tad more seductive than I might have guessed," she returned evenly. "Once you let it in, just once, it never stops whispering to you, taunting you, telling you what you really are and your true worth. After so much time, I think everyone would eventually succumb." Her smile was hard-edged and cutting, like broken glass. "And I've had a great deal of encouragement, let me tell you." Her gaze returned to Danielle, and there was little sanity in it. "Trust me when I say it's easier to just embrace it."

  
  


Danielle stared at her in utter horror, still somehow unable to comprehend what was happening. "Laura," she said at last, hating the realization that tears trembled underneath her words. "Laura, please don't do this."

  
  


"The choice whether or not to fight is yours," Laura said, coldly.

  
  


Danielle stared across the room at her friend, and for a moment the years fell away. Dreamily, she saw herself and Laura, so much younger and neither clad in black, romping on the playground at recess in first grade, playing games of animals and magic. In sixth grade, she and Laura and Krista dressed up together to celebrate the release of Star Wars and launched balloons for science class into a clear sky. In eighth grade, they and Annie frolicked together on field trips to Union Station and the art gallery, going to the movies and parties together. At graduation, they threw their caps into the air with laughter and tears, and her pictures showed them with their arms slung over each other's shoulders, grinning and laughing for the camera. In the field outside Panera, as they celebrated their last summer before college, Laura's grin, so open, loving, and familiar, sparkled as she held fourth four necklaces, and her eyes danced with the knowledge of a job well done.

  
  


Now, those same eyes stared coldly at Danielle over the blade of a lightsaber, and there was no love in them, no acknowledgment of friendship and memories shared. A sense of unreality, of pain so fierce she could barely acknowledge it, struck Danielle then . . . and with a feeling of death in her heart, she stepped forward and raised her lightsaber against Laura's own, igniting the blue blade.

  
  


And so the fight began.

  
  


Krista and Annie hastily backed away, horror and helplessness evident on their faces, as the duel began, knowing to keep well away of the lethal blades. Unarmed, they could do nothing but watch as the two swordsmen circled each other, warily, each waiting for the other to strike the first blow. Annie especially writhed because she and Laura had fenced together for many years and the memories were happy ones, lending this scene an air of cruel mockery--and beyond this, although Laura had been good, when they fenced each other Annie had always won.

  
  


Today, perhaps, that might not be the case.

  
  


Laura had spent three years in Star Wars and clearly she had spent them well. She knew the origin of their necklaces and the nature of their enemy. She knew the lay of the land and the ways of its citizens. She could pilot a speeder and she could fire a gun. Now, it became apparent that she could also wield the Force, as well as the lightsaber she held so familiarly.

  
  


Laura gave in and moved first, feinting, but Danielle was not deceived. She responded with a blow of her own--not aiming for her torso, for Danielle did not think she could hurt Laura--but a glancing one at her shoulder, which Laura effortlessly parried. Drawing back, they acknowledged the skill the other possessed, then the pace picked up in a mad flurry of thrusts, parries, and ripostes which Annie followed with knowledgeable eyes and Krista stared at slack-jawed and thunderstruck. Never before had she seen two such skilled opponents fence--and skilled they certain were. Danielle had not been training long but already the knowledge seemed to have become ingrained within her, making her movements fluid as the Force guided her actions. Good though she may be, however, she again found herself with an opponent that outmatched her--for Laura had three years on her side instead of three months, and her years of Earth fencing on top of that. For all that Danielle held her own, it became readily apparent that Laura was the more skilled of the two, and that Danielle was doomed to lose.

  
  


Danielle, however, acknowledged no such thing. When she sensed that Laura had taken her measure and was closing in to disarm or perhaps even kill her, she drew on something Obi-Wan had told her and lashed out with her foot, catching Laura squarely on her torso. Laura gave an "ooomph!" of surprise and staggered back slightly with pain, clearly caught off guard. Her face quickly returned to its usual grimness, however, and the battle resumed in earnest.

  
  


Krista could not shake the feeling that, instead of seeing two of her best friends clashing swords, she was watching an actual Star Wars film, for the crackle of the blades and the skill of the opponents seemed utterly impossible--all too real and yet unreal at the same time. Laura, adapting to Danielle's new strategy, was now kicking and dodging herself, and so the battle raged across the floor and deeper into the shadows.

  
  


After several minutes it became clear Laura intended to end the fight, and her blows suddenly became fiercer, more merciless. Danielle, in turn, stopped trying to ensure she did not injure her friend and struck out viciously, taking Laura by surprise. Danielle's thrust scored a long line of fire across her friend's side and Laura sprang back with a yell of pain and shock. Before Danielle could press her advantage, however, Laura recovered and attacked with sudden vehemence, unleashing the ruthlessness that had made her formidable in bouts on earth. When Danielle hastened to parry one thrust, Laura kicked her in one breath and slammed the hilt of her lightsaber onto Danielle's fingers in the next, making Danielle cry out in pain and nearly drop her blade. Swirling around in defense, she gave a hard, baseball-bat-like swing at Laura's undefended side, and in her haste to defend Laura did not divert the blow so much as meet it, bringing the two lightsabers locked together in a crackling strain for dominance.

  
  


Danielle, shoulders straining and sweat running down her face, glanced across the crossed blades to where Laura was equally pressed. Neither girl could claim advantage and neither would yield, and so for a timeless moment they remained locked in position in a desperate struggle for power.

  
  


Then, over the sudden lull, they heard an abrupt scream, and Danielle looked over Laura's shoulder to see the door closing behind a new arrival. She looked over at Krista and Annie, and suddenly all the breath left her body in a rush. Throwing herself back from Laura, she stood, panting, and stared in horror as Darth Maul held his double-bladed lightsaber aloft, one tip pointing directly at Krista and Annie.

  
  


Laura glanced over her shoulder, saw what had happened, and turned back to Danielle. "It's over," she said coldly. "Drop your lightsaber, now, or he will remove portions of their anatomy one by one until you decide to yield."

  
  


For a moment Danielle stood frozen, unwilling to acknowledge defeat--then with a hiss of rage she dropped her lightsaber, disengaging it as she did so.

  
  


Laura disengaged her own blade and extended a hand, calling Danielle's lightsaber to her effortlessly. "Join the others," Laura ordered.

  
  


Danielle stared at her. "Laura, is this really you?" she asked, voice shaking with rage and sorrow. "Are you still in there, or is something making you do this?"

  
  


Laura's expression seemed to crack for just a moment, but almost instantaneously the cold mask slammed back into place. "Trust me, Danielle, when I say I'm still at the helm. What? Did you really think three years living in the hell that is the household of a Sith wouldn't affect me? Well, then you are a fool. I had the great misfortune to show up out of nowhere in this house with no explanation for my arrival and an inexplicable talent for the Force--and Master Sideous is never one to waste opportunities." She cocked her head, and for a moment Danielle could see a glint of the Laura she knew within those eyes. "One can only hold out for so long, survive so much. Everyone has her breaking point." She shrugged, placing the lightsabers in her pocket, and though her voice was cool Danielle could hear the hatred and despair in it. "He found mine."

  
  


"Although I will say," a voice filled with crackling amusement came from behind them, "it was not an easy thing to do."

  
  


Neither Laura nor Darth Maul turned as Palpatine approached, glee shining out from his features, and Danielle realized with a sinking stomach he had been there, watching, all along. This had been doomed from the beginning: Laura had set a pretty trap, and they had waltzed right into it.

  
  


Walking up to Laura, Palpatine stroked her hair as one might a pet cat, and she endured it silently--Laura who hated to be touched by strangers. "Yes, this one took a while to break, but the result was worth it, don't you think? Perhaps she is not so fine a pupil as my other, but she serves her purpose, after all. And in this case, my darling," he turned Laura's head to look at him, "you have done exceptionally well."

  
  


Laura's face still held no expression. "I live to serve you, my lord."

  
  


"Indeed you do. Now, Maul, you will take the prisoners to the appointed holding cells and see that they remain there. Laura, you will come with me and we will contact our friend Atharca and give him the good news."

  
  


At this, Danielle could feel the death of every hope she had failing. Palpatine, then, was in league with the other villain instead of at odds with him. They truly were doomed, then. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon would never be able to find them before Palpatine shipped them to Atharca and he sacrificed them as planned. They would die, and this galaxy would be plunged into hell--and then, the unthinkable: so would their own.

  
  


The thought made her physically ill.

  
  


Krista and Annie stared at Laura again, incredulous, and for a moment when Krista met her eyes something in her friend's expression broke, and she could see the Laura she'd always known. She stared at them, rage, helplessness, and sorrow entwined in her gaze, and for a moment Krista felt hope clutch at her; then Palpatine gestured, and Laura's head snapped away, that same coldness settling onto her features once more.

  
  


As Darth Maul stepped forward to lead them away, malicious amusement dancing in those demonic yellow eyes, Annie cast one despairing look at her friend. "Laura!"

  
  


Laura turned, but it was Palpatine who answered. "Don't fear, ladies. She's in good hands--as are you. I'll see you when it is time for the sacrifice." Without a backward glance, he left.

  
  


Laura remained for a moment, staring at them, but her eyes were empty. Then, abruptly, she turned on her heel and strode after Palpatine, as though she no longer acknowledged their presence.

  
  


When the door closed behind her, the sound echoed in a silent room, and despair fell like a curtain of night.


	18. Evil Under the Sun

A/N: Eh voila, I return with another chapter in this ongoing saga! Whew, this was interesting to write. I'm still not sure about the pacing, either, but I hope the general effect is conveyed. As we get closer and closer to the end more and more stuff keeps tumbling out each chapter, and it's all I can do to write it down as fast as it happens. I love all the entertaining guesses about what's to come, and you guys' enthusiasm doubles my own. Please, please keep up the excellent reviews! They make me feel so special.

Also--I would greatly prefer to not be bludgeoned to death for anything that happens or seems to happen in this chapter. Just have patience and stick with me. As always, please keep all hands and arms safely inside until the chapter is over. Thank you!

SOUNDTRACK: The Fall of the House of Usher by Alan Parson's Project (or other generic creepy/depressing music), Chopin's Revolutionary Etude, the Star Wars Main Theme (or anything decently swashbuckling; POTC never hurts), and always, always Light of the Force by John Williams.

EIGHTEEN

It could very well be argued that they had been in darker places. Annie had been a slave, Krista the captive of a lustful fiend, the both of them tied to the stake awaiting their imminent incineration, and Danielle in a duel with a Sith and in the clutches of an evil fiend bent on taking her humanity and destroying the galaxy. Moreover, there were many places they *could* be that would undoubtedly be worse. Hell, for example, is never fun. Nor is math class. Or being chased by hordes of giant purple hippopotami.

Being in the dungeon of a Sith Lord because one of your best friends has just betrayed you and gone evil, however, wasn't very high-ranking on their Fun List either.

Albeit, the 'dungeon' could have been much worse. Being as how it would probably look suspicious if a nice, upstanding senator had dank musty cells complete with manacles, the rack, and a few artfully place skeletons in his basement, they were merely being kept in what they assumed to be a guest room. The fervor of some misguided interior decorator, however, had given the room an overall appearance of the aftermath of a battle between a rainbow and jungle safari. While the decor was enough to drive one insane, however, it was by no means painful or life-threatening.

To the three girls held captive inside it, however, none of this mattered an exceptional amount.

Palpatine, no fool, knew that despite their outward appearance they were not young women to underestimate, and so each was bound with a metal cable to a sturdy metal sitting chair to the point of almost complete immobility. The room was also free of anything that could be used as a weapon or means of escape, so Danielle and Krista's telepathy had amounted to nothing. Annie's precognition, always tenuous at best, had yet again chosen to desert her when it would have been most useful. Their imprisonment, while startlingly humane, seemed quite adequate to keep them exactly where Palpatine wanted them.

Silence hung heavily in the room.

Hours later, when she could stand the silence no longer, Krista shook her head, wishing her hands were free so she could rub her eyes. "I just can't believe this."

Annie, somewhere to her left, sighed. "We know, Krista. Neither can we."

"Three years with a Sith Lord," Danielle whispered, head bowed. "I never thought--we've been all right, I just assumed Laura would, too."

"I guess she just drew the short straw," Annie said sadly. "Guys, I don't think this is gonna be much fun."

"You think?" Being imprisoned yet again after having had a sword held to throat by one of her oldest friends had, understandably, frayed Danielle's temper. "I just--God, we fell right into the trap. We snuck out without even telling anyone we were going to leave. Obi and Qui--they'll never know what happened to us."

"What *is* going to happen to us?" Krista asked, raising her head.

During the fight, some of Danielle's hair had come loose from its ponytail and now hung around her face. Irritated, she tried to blow it out of her eyes, unsuccessfully. "Well, I think that in a few hours we're going to be handed over to the nice Galaxy-destroying man, and he's going to ritualistically sacrifice us, then use the power in our necklaces to conquer this galaxy and ours." She paused. "But that's just a guess."

Krista thumped her head back against her chair. "Shit."

"No, really? I didn't think it sounded that bad."

"Okay, that's enough sarcasm for now," Annie cut in hastily. "We need to try and figure out some kind of plan, some way out of this." When silence was the only response, she said, "Come on, guys! We've gotten out of stuff this bad before. We can do this!"

"Yeah, sure," Danielle said heavily. "Then, as soon as we escape from this room, the three of us can take on not only Evil-Laura but Darth Maul and Mr. Evil Emperor, all by ourselves, and save the day."

"It sounds so pessimistic when you put it that way."

"Now why do you think that might be?"

"Annie's right," Krista said. "We can't despair! We're in Star Wars--the good guys always triumph! There's got to be something we can do."

"Like what?"

Momentarily stumped, Krista thought for a moment before suddenly beaming. "How about some inspiration songs?"

Across the other side of the room, Danielle reached into the Force, focused, then sent a wave of energy across the room. Krista flinched and cursed as a sensation eerily like a hand smacking her upside the head struck her. "Hey!"

Annie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's really helping us figure out a way to get out of here."

"Well, *you* come up with something. I'm all out of daring escapes."

"Hey, I'm the only member of this group without telekinesis. Can't you magically untie the cables, at least?" When only silence greeted this remark, she snorted contemptuously. "Why am I not surprised?"

The snick of the lock turning shut them all up immediately. As they sat frozen, waiting, an extremely long silence passed. At last, impatiently, Krista began, "Okay, what--?"

Before she could finish speaking there was the sound of a gun firing, somehow muffled through the door, followed by an unfathomable crunching noise. As they pricked their ears, they heard a rustle, then all was silent once more.

Krista waited a reasonable interval before speaking again. "Okay, what the hell was that?"

As if at her very words, the door opened, just a crack. A cloaked and hooded figure slipped inside, and they all stared dumbly for a moment as it quickly shut the door behind itself. Before anyone could even conjecture a hypothesis, it reached up and pushed its hood back, and Laura stared at them out of level eyes. She was dressed just as she had been before, all in blacks and dark browns with her hair pulled back tightly, but she was paler now than she had been, and her hazel eyes blazed in her face.

For a moment, no one spoke.

"Well, well, well," Danielle said drily. "Look who it is. Our friend Laura, come to visit us. Have you come to gloat? Torment the prisoners a little, maybe? Or is it time to take us to Atharca?"

"Aw, you know me," Laura's voice was, in their opinion, unwarrantedly droll. "I'm always up for a spot of torture on the sly. I've got the thumbscrews and country music all ready."

"This isn't a game, Laura!" Danielle snapped. "We're not in the mood for jokes! What do you WANT?"

Laura sighed heavily. "All right, geez. In point of fact, I'm here to rescue you."

There was a very meaningful silence.

Finally Krista said, "Well, of course. I mean, why didn't we guess? What other reason would you go to the effort to trick and capture us than so you could just come right down and free us again?"

"Yeah," Danielle added, "I already fell for that trick once, Laura. We're really not that stupid."

Laura folded her arms and leaned back against the wall with stunning nonchalance. "Ah, yes," she said, her voice as sardonic as human voices can be. "Observe my stunning and villainous cleverness as I trick you into thinking I'm rescuing you from my master so that I can just turn right around and betray you again--and put you right back where you started, then revel in the fruits of my fiendish plan." A single eyebrow soaring up, she fixed them with an impatient look. "Not that that would be pointless or anything. You know us evil fiends--always looking for ways to pass the time."

"But you are a Sith," Danielle said coldly. "Aren't you?"

Laura hesitated a moment. When she spoke, her voice had that same terrifying flatness to it. "Yes. I'm afraid that I am."

"Then why the hell would you want to help us?" Krista asked.

Laura met her gaze calmly. "Because I'm not a Sith by choice."

There was a pause as they digested this statement. "All right," Annie said slowly, "if you really are here to rescue us, then why *did* you bring us here in the first place?"

"That," Laura grimaced, "requires a hefty amount of explanation, so does no one mind if I start untying you while I tell it?"

"Oh, I mind, definitely," Krista declared. "I will be personally offended if you remove my bonds and help me to escape."

Ignoring this, Laura unfolded herself from the wall and stepped up to Annie, who was closest, and produced a long mechanical device they could only assume was a lock-pick. "To shamelessly utilize a cliche, I guess the entire explanation starts at the beginning, with me showing up in magical ol' Star Wars--not on some fun happy planet, mind you, but on the doorstep of a lovely Sith who decided I looked just peachy as his next little apprentice. Naturally, I wasn't really up for that plan, and protested--at which point Mr. Sithly decided a little persuasion never did a body harm." Her face twisted, thinly veiled hatred showing beneath her affected air of casualness. It was a more terrible expression than any her friends had ever seen on her face before. "As you can imagine, it was very convincing."

Annie, listening to her friend carefully, suddenly felt ill. "Oh my God," she whispered. "You . . . when I first woke up here, I heard--I heard screaming, in my mind." As Laura stared at her, amazed, Annie said raggedly, "That was you, wasn't it?"

"You're quick," Laura said, raising an eyebrow. Inserting the lock into the device, she pressed a few buttons and waited as it began humming loudly.

Danielle, meanwhile, turned pale. She was remembering how she'd woken up the first day with her friend's name on her lips, and the memory of screams echoing in her ears. "Oh, Laura."

"Yeah. Fun, huh? Well, I may say so myself but I held out for quite a while. Fought back with every inch of my might, refusing to follow orders, to speak, sometimes even to eat. All very noble and self-sacrificing, and doing me not one whit of good. It was no skin off his nose to just continue tormenting me until I broke. Eventually, I did--harnessed the Force I barely knew how to use, stole Darth Maul's lightsaber, and tried with absolutely everything I had in me to kill Palpatine. Not very well, of course, but hey, it's the thought that counts. I didn't even realize, at the time, that I'd snapped--but by the time he'd put me on the ground with a broken arm and marvelous blue electricity holes all over my skin, I'd gone over to the Dark Side."

After the passage of several years, she looked almost more amused at the story than anything else. "And you know what they say about that Dark Path, kiddies--once you start down it, forever will it dominate your destiny and all that jazz. That's truer than any mealymouthed Jedi platitude has a right to be." Her years in a Sith's household had also, it seemed, given her a rather unorthodox view on Jedi wisdom.

"So you just--what? Embraced the Dark Side?" Danielle asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Laura said, rolling her eyes in Danielle's direction as she adjusted a knob on her lockpick, the leather of her black gloves creaking. "That's me. Decided the Dark Side sounded fun and just dove right in. For heaven's sake, no. It's just that--once you let it in, just once, it's *always* in, whispering in your ear and nudging your subconscious and bubbling up in your dreams. Every time I tried to reach for the Force all I got was darkness. At first, I didn't use it at all. After a little while, I started making excuses . . . then more . . . until finally I realized I wasn't just fighting a losing battle, I'd already lost."

Annie looked at her strangely. "Uh, this might be a stupid question, but why didn't you leave? If you hated it so much, why did you stay?"

"It's not a stupid question; it happens to be extremely relevant. I tried, on quite a few occasions, to do just that. I was prevented and punished each and every time. I happen to be a halfway decent Sith; I'd even make a good Jedi if I had half a chance. Despite this, I do not, by any stretch of the imagination, so much as pose a threat to Palpatine. Even now, his power is . . . enormous." Eyes unfocused, she stared into space, clearly forgetting where she was. "The powers he commands are quite simply beyond my scope. If I tried to face him he would, to borrow a phrase from home, stomp me like a narc at a biker rally. For God's sake, I have trouble even defying him." Her eyes returned to the present, and her smile was unpleasant. "Besides, wherever I go, he's always there, in the back of my mind, watching, listening, instructing, haunting. I'm quite simply never free of him.

"But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. I may be his minion, but I bear no love for Palpatine or his nefarious schemes. So for the past three years I've walked a careful line, playing the bookish, unimportant aide in public, doing his evil bidding in private, and just all around trying to bungle his schemes whenever I can. Not very effectively, mind you, but still. The key to this scenario, however, is that he doesn't know I resist him. At some point I just told him I'd given up my struggles and embraced the Dark Side, and the arrogant old ass believed me. So he thinks I'm just a happy little minion . . . which is why I'm here, now."

The lock clicked, and Laura pulled her device free as the lock fell open. A few moments later she'd pulled the steel cables around Annie free, and stepped back, warily.

She needn't have worried. Annie didn't rush to hug her, but she didn't attack her, either. Standing, she took a measured step away from Laura and watched calmly as Laura moved to Krista and began working at her lock as well.

Danielle twisted in her bonds. "So if all that's true, how did we end up Palpatine's prisoners? You tricked us into coming here, not Palpatine. If you're on our side, why bother?"

Laura shot her a look. "I didn't have any intention of turning you in at first--as, I might hope, was evinced by my earnest rescue of you from the very person I am supposed to hand you over to in a few hours. You *did* notice my attempts at anonymity, I hope? If Atharca had recognized me, this would all have been blown to hell and he would be starting his lovely galaxy-conquering sacrifices this very moment.

"So I got you out of there as best I could--no criticisms from the peanut gallery, thank you very much--and took you back to the Jedi Temple, where I thought you'd be safe if I left and reported back to my Master to keep him from getting suspicious. How the HELL was I supposed to know that you'd be staying with--of all people--" her voice rose in indignation, "*Obi-Wan Kenobi* and Qui-Gon JINN? I mean, out of all the Jedi in the entire freaking Temple--"

The three girls exchanged glances. "What do they have to do with anything?" Krista asked in surprise.

Laura's expression spoke volumes about their intelligence. "Duh. Of all people in the galaxy that Atharca told Palpatine to watch, don't you think those two would make it on the list? He's been monitoring them for years--since not much after I arrived, in fact."

"Wait a minute." Danielle felt ill. "You're saying the apartment is *bugged*?"

"And a kewpie doll for the lady," Laura snarked, rolling her eyes. "Of course the apartment is bugged--and, even more fun, Palpatine has spies in the Temple. I don't know who, but I do know that they're there, and they report regularly. Anyway, as soon as I stepped inside and saw the two of them I knew I was screwed. Palpatine keeps their room monitored constantly. And, sure enough, a few minutes after my arrival he calls me up and tells me good work for gaining your trust, and to bring all three of you in, sans Jedi accompaniment."

"'Called you up'?" Annie repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, that whole funky master and apprentice thing where when I'm nearby he can speak to me psychically," Laura replied, grimacing. "Great for constantly monitoring my every move, so I have to keep my shields up all the time. Even then instructions always get through--and if they're not obeyed immediately, so does excruciating pain." She glanced at Danielle, eyes sparkling. "By the way, that whole psychic things works for more than just master-apprentice relationships. Next time you feel the need to just let loose a general psychic shout, be sure you know who's in the neighborhood."

For a moment Danielle had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, then she stared at Laura as though she'd just turned into a flock of wild chickens. "Oh my God. You heard me. When I was captured by Atharca, and I tried to yell for Obi-Wan and Qui . . . *you* heard me?"

Laura grinned at her. "Imagine my surprise. I was just cruising along, minding my own sweet business, when lo and behold into my head comes the voice of one of my best friends, whom I've been searching for for years now, in distress and not more than a few blocks away. What could I do but go riding off to the rescue?"

Krista's lock opened, and instead of stepping away as Annie had, Krista launched herself at Laura. Laura flinched back at first, but after only a moment she returned the hug fiercely. When Krista stepped back, her eyes shone suspiciously. "I knew you weren't evil," she said passionately. "I *knew* it! You couldn't be--you'd suck at it."

"Uh, thanks," Laura said warily, but her eyes were sparkling again. "That's a harsh outlook on my future plans for being an evil overlord, but I'll accept the implied compliment. Anyway," she moved slowly to Danielle's side and began working on her lock, "it's not quite as simple as all that. To resume my narrative, I knew I had no choice but to follow orders. All Palpatine had to do was ask Atharca if he'd been having any trouble recently, then listen to my remarks about rescuing Danielle, and that would have been all, folks. So I snuck you guys in there like a good little minion and--with Palpatine and Darth Maul watching the whole time to ensure I didn't slip up--took you prisoner. I couldn't let you in on what I was doing; you had to be convinced I was actually betraying you, or he'd have suspected something. Now, I'm doing everything in my power to get you the hell out of here, if you hadn't noticed."

"Okay," Danielle said, slowly beginning to believe the wild tale. "So that's why we're here. But--you said you knew so much more than just this. What's going on, Laura? Why are we here? These necklaces--how do they work?"

Laura looked like she wanted to refuse, then shrugged. "Well. I guess there's no better time than the present. Like I said, I've had quite a while to research, and I think I've figured out what's going on. I found a most unusual book--a journal from a character that I never knew to be in the Star Wars mythos--and she described a series of events that I believe led us to be where we are now."

She took a deep breath, then continued in a voice they knew she reserved for her stories. "Once, long ago, in a galaxy we have never seen nor ever will, Star Wars as we know existed in much the same state as it does now. The Sith were rising, the Jedi were slowly weakening, and the entire galaxy hung on the edge of a precipice. In fact, the only notable difference from the story we've seen in the movies was the addition of four characters--four people--a Jedi . . . a handmaiden . . . a slave on Tatooine . . . and an unwilling Sith apprentice." She looked up at her audience, and they stared back at her, breathless with shock. "Because of these four people, the events of Star Wars did not unfold as we knew them to. These four people, each in their own way, somehow became so pivotal that they stopped the inevitable: they exposed and defeated the Sith, prevented Anakin's fall to the Dark Side, and saved the Republic from destruction. Everything, in essence, that we would like to see happen as well.

"One being, however, was not nearly so happy with this outcome. An alien of the name of Atharca with the ability to glimpse into the possibilities saw what would have happened--what they prevented--and did not like it. Atharca and his kind feed on chaos; like the Sith, they long to dominate the galaxy and rule the minds and souls of all its people. In a well-ordered galaxy full of Jedi, such dominion would be impossible. But in a galaxy in chaos, ruled by Sith . . . more than feasible, it would be very simple to seize control.

"As you know, Atharca has the ability to travel through time much as we do through space. He traveled back through time to approximately when Krista and Danielle arrived and began trying to bring about the downfall of the republic. Obviously, there are other characters who would have been equally or even more important to remove--Obi-Wan, Yoda, or even Padme, for instance. But when he returned in time, there were four beings--friends despite their incredible differences--who saw what he was doing and who opposed him.

"If I read this diary correctly, they very nearly defeated him--he was greatly wounded and much of his ability was obstructed. It would take him another forty years of recuperation on Tatooine before he was able to resume his offensive. He hunted down the four who had prevented him from taking over the galaxy, defeated them, and ripped them completely from this galaxy--removing them not only from the present, but making it as if they had never existed at all. He exiled them to what he could only imagine was some parallel hell dimension. It was not a hell dimension. It was, in fact, a galaxy not unlike his own . . . our galaxy."

Danielle drew in a sharp breath as Krista and Annie stared dumbly. "That's right," Laura said grimly. "We'll never know how the tale of Star Wars made it into our world, but chances are that it came with one of these girls. However, we do know that they were banished to our world, unable to return and fill the places in history that they had been destined for. Instead, they were forced to watch as everything they had fought to prevent took place, everyone they loved had died . . . and do nothing.

"But they *did* do something. Unable to return themselves, they decided that they would send four to fill their place--four chosen by fate to fulfill the destinies they were robbed of and save their galaxy from anarchy. So they combined their strengths and created four talismans--tokens of incredible power--that would send four back to their original place in the galaxy . . . Tatooine, Naboo, the Jedi Temple, and in the clutches of a Sith.

"They succeeded, but the task destroyed them. When they had finished creating the pendants, everything they were was within them, and they ceased to be. The pendants, each complete with the spirit of a true Star Wars inhabitant and programmed, when joined, to take their wearers back to their home, were lost. Heaven only knows how long they spent in shadow before some unsuspecting idiot pulled them off the rack at the antique mall and purchased them . . . for herself and three of her friends . . ."

Silence fell. After some time, Krista whispered, "Holy God."

"There's more," Laura said, rousing herself when her lockpick beeped and she was forced to adjust it. "Like I said, they put everything into the creation of these pendants--even themselves. That's why we have places here, unnatural skills, and the occasional memory. That's why this galaxy feels like home--because, in a way, it is. There are spirits of long-dead heroes living in these pendants and now sharing our bodies, and they're what's making us capable of surviving here so long." She grimaced. "The downside to that, at least in my case, is that my particular spirit happens to be a more than half-mad Dark Jedi. Sometimes, when she talks . . . I can't help but listen. And she doesn't often give what you might call sound advice.

"It didn't take long after our return for Atharca to figure out who we were and why we were here. Our reappearance in the galaxy anchored the possibilities he'd tried to destroy when he'd banished the four years ago; in other words, we kept him from altering time as he'd planned, especially since we'd all been sent to different times. Atharca could only assume that we were either our predecessors reincarnated or willing participants--he had no idea we'd fumbled onto something we couldn't even begin to understand. He also knew that if he didn't find and stop us, we *would* fill the places we'd been destined for; with our knowledge of what is to come, we would be able to save the galaxy as we'd been intended. He had to destroy us--and unless he destroyed the pendants as well, with our deaths they would simply return to our galaxy to wait and gather another four. They had to be destroyed together, ritualistically--then, and only then, could he take over the galaxy and bring it into shadow."

There was a click as Danielle's lock finally disengaged. Stepping away, Laura pulled it free and looked at her friends evenly. "That is why we're here--not by accident, not by chance, not by some sick joke. Like it or not, we've been thrust into the middle of a battle that was going on before we were even born--a battle that, if we lose, could now result in the destruction of our own galaxy as well. Because Atharca knows now how the pendants work, how they travel between galaxies, and he can harness them to conquer ours as well. He is a powerful man; if he's not stopped, he will do it, and everything will fall into darkness." When they just stared at her, she shrugged, a little self-consciously. "I'm just saying."

The three girls exchanged another glance, filled with horror and understanding. At last, Krista said drily, "So no pressure then."

As Danielle stood, Laura couldn't help but grin. "Nah, it's not like we're the only thing standing between Atharca and his goal. I mean, I sure as heck wouldn't want that to be the case."

Annie rubbed her temples. "I think I'm getting a headache."

"And I," Laura said, rubbing the lightsaber that hung at her waist unconsciously, "think we've been dawdling long enough. Time to get you out of here, ladies."

"Wait!" They turned to look at Danielle, who was staring at Laura in concern. "But how will we get out without Palpatine noticing?"

Laura grinned even more widely. "Again, my secret weapon, my ace in the hole, is taking care of that for me. He's a pretty effective distraction, let me tell you."

"Secret weapon?" Danielle asked warily. "Who?"

"Ah, I think we've had enough revelations for one day. Before we head out, though, I think you might be needing these." Her cloak, huge and voluminous, apparently had a fair amount of pockets, because from them she withdrew two guns, which she tossed to Annie and Krista. As they caught them, surprised, Laura reached into a different pocket and withdrew a black cylinder. "Here," she said quietly to Danielle. "Atharca gave it to Palpatine, and I pinched it." Carefully, she extended the lightsaber to Danielle, and Danielle reached forward and took it in shock. It was her very own blade, which had been confiscated when Atharca had captured her.

Laura glanced out at the hall, then beckoned them forward urgently. "Come on, gals; time to get a move on."

Krista and Annie both instantly moved at her words, Annie touching Laura's shoulder as she filed out past her, but Danielle remained where she was, unmoving.

Laura turned to face her, and her expression was filled with understanding. "It's not a trick, Danielle," she said quietly.

Danielle shook her head, ever so slowly. "Laura . . . if you betray us again . . ."

"I won't. I swear it." When Danielle still didn't budge, Laura extended one black-gloved hand, solemnly. "I *swear* it, Danielle. Please, for the sake of everything we've been through, trust me just one more time. I'm on your side."

For a moment Danielle met her gaze, and she could not stop herself from remembering how cold that gaze had been over the crimson blade of a lightsaber. Something had twisted inside her at the cold hatred she'd read in Laura's eyes, and even now she could not completely shake it from her mind. But Laura's gaze did not waver . . . and almost without her consent Danielle stepped forward and grasped Laura's hand tightly in her own. "I trust you."

Laura smiled. "Thank you," she whispered; then, breaking the grasp, she turned and strode forward. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here."

Laura was a much swifter and more surefooted guide than she had been in Atharca's lair; clearly, three years living here had given her a good idea of its layout. "I'm going to take us through the lower levels for as long as I can," she'd whispered. "Most of the guards and security are upstairs, so we're going to try and avoid them as long as possible."

She'd proven right thus far. Leading them at first through a tangled maze of darkened corridors until they were all completely disoriented, Laura finally turned abruptly and opened an unremarkable door that led into a small, unlit room. The others filed in after her and Krista closed the door soundlessly behind them.

"What's this?" Annie asked. "Where are we?"

"This is one of Palpatine's private offices," Laura whispered. "Follow me, and when I say so, *be quiet*. There're periodic security sweeps in here, and I've disabled the visual, but the audio will still pick up." Without further explanation she swept across the door to a large file cabinet, rapidly entered a set of numbers, and opened one of the drawers.

As Laura began rifling through the papers, Danielle asked, "Laura, what are you doing? We're in kind of a hurry, here."

"Have a little patience," Laura responded firmly. "This is almost as important as your getting out of here alive. Here," she said triumphantly, brandishing a folder filled with documents. Tossing it at Krista, who caught it fumblingly, she then turned to the computer, seated herself, and began rapidly typing on the keyboard.

"What's this?" Krista asked, surprised.

"Documents recording various conversations and transactions between Palpatine and the Trade Federation. *Illegal* transactions," she added with grim triumph. "Stuff those somewhere and do not lose them. Let me just get a little more here . . ."

"What are you doing now?" Annie asked as Laura hit a key firmly and, with a tinny noise, information began recording on a disc.

"This is a basic conglomeration of stuff you might find useful. Passwords to all sorts of Palpatine and Atharca's crap, locations, information lines, contact listings . . . basically, whatever the Jedi and the Senate might find useful in rooting out and destroying their entire organization." After a moment, when the disc finished writing, Laura pulled out the fingernail-sized piece of hardware and flicked it at Danielle. "Bring the bastards to their knees," she said grimly.

Danielle tucked the disc into a small, secure pocket in her cloak. "I will." After a moment, she amended, "*We* will."

"Okay, that's all the time we can spare, I think," Laura said, glancing at a chronometer on her wrists. "In fact--" she flung a hand into the air "silent, now!"

All four girls froze. In the corner, a small, previously invisible security droid flared into life, innards buzzing as it slowly panned over the room, first in one direction, then the other. After a moment, it fell still again. Laura dropped her hand, and they let out breaths of relief.

"Come on," she said, glancing inexplicably upward. "I think we need to hurry." And, without further explanation, she swept back out into the hall, leaving nothing for them to do but follow.

After some more confusing navigation of dark halls, they turned into an open area filled with dim shapes. In the distance were what looked like giant metal doors, and the ceiling stretched in shadow far overhead.

"Where are we?" Annie asked.

"Palpatine's private hangar bay," Laura whispered back. "Perfect for launching ships on illicit missions and all that jazz. Of course, no one but his closest aides knows it exists, he's so touchy about it. It's a wonder that he never puts anyone on guard--"

Before she even finished her sentence Laura leapt back and snapped up her lightsaber, in her hand and ignited before her friends even fully registered what was happening. In eerie almost-synchornization, next to her Danielle did the same thing, and the glow of the two blades meshed eerily in the dim lighting. Only a split second later Krista's gun was up and ready, but Annie remained holding hers loosely, a distant expression on her face.

"What is it?" Krista asked tersely.

"I don't know," Laura bit back, glancing at Danielle for confirmation. "Something--"

Behind them, Annie shuddered intensely, then shouted, "To your right!"

The two lightsaber-wielders began moving before the words had left her mouth, swirling to engage the foe. For, surely enough, emerging from between the distant rows of ship were huge defense droids, weapons already flashing as they attacked the four intruders. They were a model unseen in the Star Wars films, very squat and chunky with two blaster cannons per droid. Despite their inelegance, however, they were very effective, and they unleashed salvo after salvo at the four girls.

Laura and Danielle stepped forward, trying to shield their friends, lightsabers flashing in a frantic attempt to deflect all the shots. Behind them, Annie and Krista took advantage of their cover to fire over the others' shoulders and take out the droids, but there were simply too many, and more kept coming.

"I thought you said he didn't have anyone on guard!" Krista yelled over the din.

"He didn't!" Laura snapped back. "This is new!"

Abruptly there was a new sound, from behind them, and with a cry Annie dove, taking herself and Krista to the floor. Milliseconds later blaster fire ripped into the air where they'd been standing, and Laura instantly whirled so that she and Danielle were back to back, guarding against the shots coming at them from both sides.

As Krista and Annie lay flat on the floor, still trying to fire, Danielle shouted, "We're surrounded! I can't deflect from all sides!"

Laura hesitated a moment before answering, clearly torn. "All right!" she shouted back. "Get ready to run! When I say 'go', we'll clear an opening, and then run for the opposite end, all right?"

"Okay," Danielle replied, and Annie and Krista agreed as well.

"All right: one, two, three, GO!" Laura shouted, and she and Danielle extended a hand, knocking the nearest rows of droids back. Instantly they took off, Annie and Krista already on their feet and running with them. Blaster fire trailed after them, but they managed to outrun it.

At the end of the hangar bay they entered a carpeted hallway, and at a breakneck sprint Laura led them away from the room filled with defense droids. "Okay," she panted as she ran, "that was new, and new isn't good. We can only hope Palpatine doesn't know what we're up to, because if he does--we are screwed, ladies."

"What now?" Danielle asked, running at her side and gasping for air.

"We have to get you out of this building as quickly as possible. I think the quickest way is up a utility staircase just around--LOOK OUT!"

The four girls threw themselves to a stop as they rounded the corner--for on the other side lay a veritable army of the battle droids made infamous in the Phantom Menace, fully armed and with guns brought to bear on the escapees.

"Go back!" Danielle cried, and they retreated around the corner. Realizing the dozens of droids would soon follow them around the corner, Krista beckoned them into an open office nearby, and the two lightsaber-wielders positioned themselves at the door where they could deflect shots.

"I think it's safe to say Palpatine's figured out what's going on," Annie remarked, casually.

"So we're screwed then," Krista said, resigned. "That sucks."

"No," Laura replied, and her friends were shocked to realize that her voice shook with fear. Her expression, however, was one of rigid determination. "You can still escape. I think Palpatine must still be distracted upstairs, and these guys are simple enough to get around; I know--"

It took them a few seconds to realize Laura had stopped talking. Glancing at her, they realized that her face, already pale, had gone completely white, and that she stood trembling with her jaw clenched and her lightsaber shaking in her grasp.

"Laura?" Danielle asked, bewildered. She stretched out a hand to touch her friend--and Laura recoiled with a small noise, like a cornered animal.

"Laura!" Krista shouted, alarmed. "Laura, are you all right? What's wrong?"

Laura dropped her lightsaber, and the energy blade scorched the floor before it automatically disengaged. Her hands flying up to cover her ears, she began to back away, shaking her head and muttering insensibly. There was not even a shred of sanity in her eyes.

Danielle, lowering her lightsaber, looked at her friend in horror as Laura dropped to the floor and scooted up against the wall where her mutterings slowly became audible. "No, no, no, no, no, no--"

As Danielle started to step toward her friend, the first of the battle droids discovered where they were hiding and began firing on them through the doorway.

Danielle's lightsaber snapped up in time to desperately deflect the first volley, but the shots of the battle droids came far more quickly than the security droids' and without Laura's help she had more ground to cover on her own. "Help her!" she screamed to Annie and Krista. "One of you cover me and someone figure out what's wrong with her!"

Annie was already moving before Danielle spoke. She dove to Laura's side as Krista drew up behind Danielle and began picking off the battle droids as best she could without hitting Danielle. Annie dropped to her knees at Laura's side and desperately grabbed her friend's shoulders. "Laura! Laura, what's wrong?"

At first Laura seemed completely oblivious to Annie's presence, but when Annie shook her shoulders and slapped her, Laura blinked, then seemed to come back to herself a bit. Slowly, waveringly, her eyes focused on Annie, and there was an expression of complete disorientation in them. "Annie?" she asked, fumblingly, her voice seeming to come from a great distance. "What's going on?"

"Laura, you have to get up," Annie said, her voice shaking with fear. "Please, Laura!"

Laura's eyes instantly snapped back into the present. "Annie!" she repeated, this time with certainty. "What--oh God, let me up!"

Relieved, Annie released her friend and moved away, as Laura grabbed her lightsaber once more and slowly rose to her feet. "What *happened*?" Annie gasped.

"A little bout of unpleasantness," Laura said, her mouth pressed into a grim line. "I--I lost control, just for a second there." As Annie looked at her in horror, Laura tried to shrug it off. "I'm fine."

Danielle and Krista saw her stand, and relief washed across their features as they turned to face her. "Laura!" Danielle cried, gesturing desperately. "Help me!"

"Laura!" Krista cried in joy, turning to run toward her friend--at the exact same moment Danielle moved aside to allow Laura to join her at the doorway--

It happened in the blink of an eye, too fast for either of the Jedi or the precognitive Annie to even move. One of the battle droids fired just as Danielle lowered her blade for an instant--and the shot snaked past her into the defenseless target behind her.

Krista staggered at the impact, then took a step back, shocked. At first she didn't realize what had happened, didn't register why her friends were screaming her name--then her hand instinctively went to the burning pain in her side and her knees buckled under her.

"Oh, hell," she whispered, then slumped to the floor.

Annie caught her before she hit the ground, and Krista was a dead weight in her arms. Looking at the others, her face was white with fear. "She's not breathing!"

Horror washed over all three of the girls. Danielle's mouth dropped in horror and Laura's features washed black with rage and terror. "Is she alive?" Danielle gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

Annie pressed a hand to Krista's temple, then gave a little sob of relief. Looking up at Laura and Danielle, she nodded. "She's alive. But--"

"There's no time," Laura snapped. "Stay here and guard her for a minute," she ordered Annie. Turning to Danielle, she said, "We have to get to the end of the hall. Now!"

Danielle nodded grimly, and the two girls positioned themselves in the doorway. Without any further discussion, they swirled as one into the hall, Danielle slamming the door closed behind them.

The battle droids outnumbered them immensely, but with rage fueling Laura's motions and Danielle fighting for the friends that were now undefended, they sliced through the line of droids like a scythe through a wheat field. Back to back, motions complementing each other just as well as they had matched each other in battle, they cut a swath through the mass of droids, lightsabers drawing lines of searing color in the air. Droids fell around them left and right, dismembered by the blades of light that they could neither deflect nor evade.

Only moments later they broke through, and Danielle remained behind deflecting as Laura sprinted to a small console mounted in the wall a few yards down the hall. Dropping her lightsaber, she rapidly typed on the keyboard for a moment, then slapped a button triumphantly. "Brace yourself!" she screamed at Danielle, flattening herself against the wall.

Danielle threw herself out of arm's reach just as, overhead, unseen electronics suddenly hummed into life. With a massive crackle, a wave of blue energy suddenly swept down the hall, extinguishing the overhead lights and deadening all the battle droids it touched until they lay in a motionless heap on the floor. The energy continued down the hall as far as Danielle could see, until the only light was the searing crimson of Laura's lightsaber and her own azure.

"What was that?" Danielle gasped, staring at the heap of battle droids in shock.

"The Star Wars version of EMP," Laura replied grimly. "A security measure installed in case someone sends droid assassins in here. Lightsabers, of course, are immune. Palpatine must not know I'm with you or he'd have disabled it. Come on!" Beckoning Danielle after her, she sprinted around the piles of deactivated droids back to the room where Annie waited.

As soon as they entered she looked up, and tears made tracks on her face. "It's bad," she said, her voice shaking. "Oh, God, guys--"

The two girls rushed to her side, extinguishing lightsabers as they dropped to their knees. Annie had pulled Krista's tunic up, and they could see clearly where the blaster bolt had blackened and burned away the skin of her side. She was still unconscious. "She's breathing, but she needs help."

Laura gave a small moan and Danielle glanced away momentarily, looking ill. "This is really bad, guys. She needs help, now!" Annie looked imploringly at them. "One of you has to do something!" She swallowed, throat working convulsively. "If we don't get her somewhere soon, she'll die. I . . . I saw it." Her voice shook with urgency.

"I'm not trained," Danielle whispered. "I never learned how to heal!"

She glanced at Laura, but Laura shook her head, self-loathing in her eyes. "I'm Sith," she said, voice low. "The Dark Side begets no life. We can't heal."

"Then we have to get her to a hospital immediately," Annie said, harshly. "Laura, we need to know the fastest way out of here."

Laura hesitated a moment, then sheathed her lightsaber at her side. Motioning for Annie to move aside, she bent down and picked Krista up, but not without effort. "Good thing she doesn't even weight a hundred pounds and I'm a Sith," Laura grunted, showing the effort of carrying her friend nonetheless. Beckoning with her head, she started for the doors. "You guys are gonna have to cover me, but I'll get you to an exit. Come on!"

Their journey to the nearest turbolift and up it were hellish; Laura could barely move at a trot carrying her friend, and Annie and Danielle started at every noise. They gained the lift successfully and were uninterrupted on their journey to the main floor, and stepped out warily into what seemed to be the main hall.

The hall seemed to have recently seen some type of battle. Furniture lay askew and the walls were scored with blaster marks, yet everything was eerily still. Danielle closed her eyes, reaching out her senses to discern if anyone lay in wait for them, but could sense nothing, and so she stepped out into the open boldly.

Eyeballing the disheveled hallway, the other two followed her. Their footsteps seemed uncannily loud in the silence. "All right," Laura said, voice low. "The mains doors are just at the end of this hall and to the right. We--"

"So," a low, deadly voice rang out from behind them, interrupting Laura. "It seems that I am doubly betrayed tonight. But no matter; all will soon be put in its place."

All four girls froze, and Laura closed her eyes briefly. Slowly, reluctantly, they turned--and there stood Palpatine, dressed in his evening clothes and with an unperturbed expression on his face . . . and blue energy still crackling on his fingertips.

"I might have known you were the author of all this," he said reflectively, glancing at Laura. "Everyone has a weakness where friends are concerned and you are not one with great skill at denying your weaknesses. I couldn't fathom how the prisoners might have escaped without help--and, of course, they did not. Very well; I can acknowledge when I have been bested. Now, Laura, you have been a very wicked girl, and you must be punished; but you can still redeem yourself in my eyes. Bring them back in, and I will be merciful in my retribution."

Laura seemed rooted to the spot, her face white with fear, her head bowed as she tried vainly to block out her Master's voice. She didn't respond.

"Come now, Laura, you know that resistance is futile. I have already dealt with your co-conspirator and now this little rebellion of yours is at an end. Bring your friends to me."

Still Laura did not move. Annie and Danielle dared to neither speak nor even breathe; through both of their memories her earlier words were ringing: sometimes, I have trouble even defying him at all.

Palpatine advanced toward them, menacingly, and Annie and Danielle took a corresponding step backward toward freedom. Palpatine froze, and his features turned malevolent. "Laura, do as I command." When she still did not move, his voice was like a whipcrack. "Laura!"

And, then barely audible, they heard her answer. "No."

Danielle and Annie both relaxed, subconsciously, as Palpatine's features went blank with shock. "What?"

"No," Laura repeated, more firmly this time. She lifted her head, and while her face was still deathly pale, it was determined. Carefully, she eased Krista to the ground, and Krista moaned softly as Laura stepped away from her. Annie hurried to her side as Laura took another step forward, toward Palpatine, and grasped her lightsaber reflexively in her hand.

"You dare," Palpatine said, voice wroth. "You *dare* to defy me? You will regret this day, insubordinate fool."

"Undoubtedly," Laura said, her voice resigned. She took another, extremely reluctant step toward him.

All at once the angle of her friend's movement struck Danielle as off, somehow. "Laura? What are you doing?"

Laura glanced over her shoulder and saw Annie help a very pale and disoriented Krista to her feet. "Get out of here," she said, voice low. "I can hold him off long enough for you to escape, but no longer."

At first her friend's words didn't register. "What?" Danielle asked, dumbly.

"I said get out of here, now! You don't have much time!"

"Laura, you can't think--we won't leave you here!" Danielle stared at her in shock.

Laura's features darkened and she turned slightly to face Danielle. "You must. We'll never all make it out of here; someone has to ensure the others escape, or no one will. Krista needs to get to a healer. You *must* return to the Jedi Temple and give them word, do you understand me? They *must* know what is going to happen!"

Danielle was torn, staring at Laura in horror. Logically, she knew that her friend was right, but she could no more easily abandon her to this fate than she could raise her sword against her once more. Annie, seeing her indecision, glanced over at them in worry. "What?"

At the end of the hall, Palpatine began moving toward them, and Laura jumped back. "That's it, we're out of time," she snapped. "Get the hell out of here, now!" When Danielle and Annie remained rooted to the spot, unable to move, Laura looked at them again, her eyes full of desperate entreaty. "Now!"

There was no more time to think. As Laura raised her lightsaber to meet Palpatine head on, Annie and Danielle exchanged a quick, frantic glance. Then, together they took a hold of the barely conscious Krista and ran for the door, leaving Laura standing defiant behind them. Out of the corner of their eye they saw Palpatine raise his hands and the blue lightning stream forth from them--and Laura, sweating with the effort, catch the first surge of it on her blade. They knew, however, that she would not last long.

Then they rounded the corner, and she and Palpatine were lost to sight.

It was only a short sprint down the remainder of the hall outside, and they ran it without interruption. As soon as they burst onto the front lawn, the stars shimmering overhead, they knew they were free--they would leave unopposed.

Behind them, inside the building, they heard Laura scream.


	19. Altruistic Bloody Boomerangs

(A/N: Hoo boy, and once again, I return after faking my own death. Sorry about the long wait . . . life got interesting and, er, _real_ writing projects took precedence. But have no fear--this story lives, and will until it's finished, even if that's ten years from now grimaces. Hopefully this excellent and adventurous chapter will compensate for the time it took to write. Enjoy, and as always, let me know you're out there! Reviews, e-mails, whatever, I'll take the lot. Just let me see if I lost all my fans over my extended absence.)

NINETEENOf one mind and body, the three girls rushed desperately across the lawn, Annie and Danielle supporting the nearly dead weight of Krista evenly between them. Neither dared even turn when the door slammed shut behind them; they sprinted blindly, knowing their only hope lay in escaping while Laura kept Palpatine distracted.

They encountered no resistance across the neatly kept lawn, but they quickly realized that they didn't know how to open the main gates without Laura. Danielle solved the problem easily enough; handing Krista to Annie, she engaged her lightsaber and sliced through the main locks on the gate. When she and Annie pushed together, the huge doors reluctantly swung open, alarms flashing and wailing all the while.

Their speeder still sat where they had left it, unharmed, and Annie immediately leapt into the pilot's seat as Danielle carried Krista in after her. No discussion was needed; Annie, who remembered the way, drove them straight for the Jedi temple.

It was a nightmarish journey. Danielle sat in the back, her hand pressed over Krista's wound, which had begun to bleed in earnest, trying to stem the flow. At first Krista muttered and thrashed, making little noises of pain, but as the trip lengthened and more and more of her blood made Danielle's hands sticky, her face grew whiter and she spoke less and less. Eventually, she stopped moving entirely.

Despite slight mishap and Danielle frantically crying at Annie to go faster, they reached the Temple mostly without incident, Annie pulling into the parking lot for distinguished visitors and leaping out of the speeder without even turning off the ignition. Together they grabbed Krista and rushed her inside, heading straight for the main doors.

Inside, the Jedi Temple was in an uproar. The normally silent and serene building was packed with Jedi rushing to and fro, standing in huddles and speaking in nervous voices, or even shouting at one another. Adding to the confusion were dozens of unidentifiable strangers and even a few news crews. The vaulted ceilings and towering columns of the main hall echoed back an uncanny din of voices; many of the uninvited guests had even spilled up onto the giant marble stairs that led to the Jedi quarters and training room. It was like a zoo, or a carnival perhaps, but with a tangible aura of fear and uncertainty.

Danielle and Annie stopped short at the sight, dumbfounded. Danielle had never seen so many persons in the Temple all at the same time, and especially not so agitated. For a moment they stood motionless; then, abruptly, Danielle snapped into motion. "Hey!" she bellowed. "I need a Healer here, now!"

The crowds instantly parted and a nearby Jedi came rushing to their side. Looming nearly eight feet tall, his flippered hands moved with astonishing dexterity and multifaceted aqua eyes scrutinized them calmly. "What's the problem?" he asked, his voice buzzing slightly through his tentacled mouth.

Annie lifted Krista's arm to reveal the blaster shot, causing Krista to stir and moan. The Jedi peered at the wound for only a millisecond before bursting into action. "We need a stretcher down here, now!" he snapped to a few padawans hovering behind him. "Summon a healer and tell the ward to make ready for a critical incoming patient."

Instantly the hall was in a flurry of motion. From the disorganized huddles of Jedi several came swarming over to help, others fetching emergency medical equipment. Krista was taken gently from Annie and Danielle and placed on a long repulorlift stretcher, and two padawans hurriedly jogged her to a turbolift that would take her to the healing ward. Halfway across the crowded floor an extremely professional-looking Jedi that could only be a resident Healer took over, following the stretcher and putting various patches and IV's on Krista to stabilize her. Danielle and Annie tried to follow, but the swarms of news cameras blocked their view, and their friend was soon lost to sight.

Frustrated, Danielle grabbed Annie's arm. "This way!" she instructed, leading Annie out of the throng and down a little-used side hallway. As the roar of the throngs grew distant behind them, Danielle located a small stairwell and rushed up it, taking the stairs two at a time with Annie close behind. Several levels up, they emerged into a normally populous hallway now deserted of people and silent as a tomb.

"The medical ward is this way," Danielle said, sprinting off down the corridor; Annie followed easily.

After traversing a few lifeless hallways, they suddenly burst onto a main thoroughfare crowded with Jedi, from ancient masters to crying infants, all as agitated as those in the main hall. Elbowing through them, Danielle finally burst through an elaborate pair of double doors into what was clearly the medical ward. The elegant marble and stylized scrollwork that characterized the rest of the Temple was conspicuously absent here; it was a place of gleaming metal and whitewashed walls, pristine and highly functional.

Now, however, it was a place of controlled chaos, attendants rushing to and fro and senior healers calmly issuing orders. Krista and her entourage had arrived just before them, and she was being taken into treatment even as they stepped inside.

Danielle located the nearest informed-looking Jedi and caught her arm plaintively. "Please, where's my friend? The girl with the blaster shot who was brought in just a minute ago?"

The woman touched Danielle's shoulder comfortingly. "She's already been taken in to see one of the Senior Healers. Don't worry; Khali gets these sort of cases all the time. Your friend will be fine."

"Can we see her?" Annie asked.

"I'm afraid not. You'll have to just wait until she's released. Now, you must excuse me; I have another patient to attend to." The woman bowed to them perfunctorily, then turned and strode into a nearby room.

Annie and Danielle exchanged glances of equal parts bewilderment and defeat. What now? Laura was in danger and Krista near death--they didn't have the slightest idea what to do.

Another nearby Jedi healer who was standing nearby caught Danielle's eye, and she moved up to him hesitantly. "Excuse me?" He turned and gave her a disconcerting stare out of lashless eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you know what's happening?"

"What's happening?"

Danielle fought the urge to groan. "Yes. Downstairs. Everyone's upset about something; do you know what?"

"I," he answered with an air indicating there was no possible reason why he should know of any affairs outside the Healing Ward, "don't have the slightest idea what you young ladies are talking about. Now, I'm going to have to ask you two to leave; this area is restricted to Healing personnel only."

Danielle and Annie allowed themselves to be shooed back into the waiting area with ill grace. Annie looked at Danielle, agitation writ clearly on her face. "Now what?"

"We go back and help Laura," Danielle replied grimly.

Annie stared at her. "Go back? Are you insane?"

"Of course not." Danielle looked at her angrily. "We have to help her! If we wait too long, it will be too late! We have to go back, now!"

"And what? Leave Krista behind, and ignore what's going on all around us?" Annie waved her arms, encompassing the madness that had seized the Jedi Temple. "Danielle, I want to help her, too, but you've got to be reasonable! She did what she did to save us--to get us out of there so Atharca couldn't pull off his plans. Going back in there--you saw what Palpatine did, how easily he could have gotten us all. And Atharca's even worse. Danielle, it would be suicide!"

Danielle couldn't deny the sense of these words, and she felt despair claim her. "But--Laura-- We have to . . . we have to do something . . ."

Annie looked equally downcast for a moment, then determination came into her eyes. "We _can_ do something. Laura let us escape so we could get help--we have to tell the Jedi what's going on! They won't let Atharca finish his plans--Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon will help us, surely. And if I can find Wes and Dru--alone, we don't stand a chance against Atharca. With a team of Jedi on our side, we can defeat him."

"All right," Danielle agreed, relieved. "You're right. We just need to get going quickly, before it's too late."

"Danielle! Annie!"

They turned, shocked, and Danielle felt her heart nearly burst as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon rushed through the door. "You're all right!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, running to them. "You're here--where have you been?"

"Why did you leave when we went to the Council meeting?" Qui-Gon asked, his brows knit with mixed worry and disapproval. "And where are the others now?"

"Krista's in there," Danielle said, pointing to the healing ward. As they stared, she said quietly, "She took a hit from a blaster in the side--she's in intensive care now."

"A blaster?" Obi-Wan echoed, shocked. Qui-Gon merely asked, grimly, "And--Laura?"

Annie and Danielle exchanged glances of misery. "Laura's . . . gone," Annie said finally, her voice heavy.

"Not gone," Danielle insisted violently. "Not--"

Annie looked at her friend, her face full of sorrow. "Yes, Danielle. She's gone. We have to accept that."

"No," Danielle repeated, her voice low. "We--we can still go back in and get her. If we hurry--"

"No," Annie said, closing her eyes. "Danielle--you saw how powerful Palpatine is. Laura stayed behind so we could go free, and he knew it. Do you really think he'll let her live, after all that? And do you think she stands a chance against him? Atharca would want to start the ritual as soon as possible, to be ready for us." As Danielle shook her head, unwilling to listen, Annie continued in a shaking voice. "You have to accept it, Danielle. Laura is probably already dead."

Danielle opened her mouth to argue, but she was cut off by the shouts of the two Jedi. "Palpatine? Atharca? Ritual? Danielle, what in the Force is going on?" Qui-Gon asked, clearly distraught.

"How did Krista get shot?" Obi-Wan asked. "And where is this suspicious Laura person now?"

Annie rounded on Obi-Wan fiercely. "'Suspicious'? I'll have you know this 'suspicious' person just gave her life so that Danielle and Krista and I could escape. How dare you--?" She broke off, fuming, and clearly very upset. Obi-Wan, who had never imagined such violence from the normally very even-tempered and cheerful Annie, looked stunned.

Putting a comforting hand on Annie's arm, Danielle said, "She's right. I know you don't understand everything, but you have to believe us. Laura is definitely on our side--uh, now. And there's so much going on we don't even have time to explain it all."

"What has Senator Palpatine to do with all this?" Qui-Gon asked again, calmly.

"He's evil!" Annie shouted, before Danielle could stop her. "He's the one who's causing--all this!" She waved her arms wildly.

If anything, the two Jedi now looked even more skeptical. "Senator Palpatine--evil?" Qui-Gon said carefully. "He's always been a great supporter of the Republic and the Jedi. What makes you think he is . . . evil?"

"We saw--we know! He's plotting all this--he shot Krista--well, not him directly, but his droids--"

"Wait a minute," Obi-Wan broke in, expression incredulous. "_Palpatine_'s droid shot Krista? When did this happen?"

"While you were in the Council briefing," Danielle said. "Laura took us to Palpatine's estate--"

At this, both Jedi exclaimed in shock. "That was you?" Qui-Gon asked, expression thunderous. "You four are the thieves who broke into Palpatine's estate and damaged a great deal of his valuable property?"

The two girls' jaws dropped. "How do you know about that?" Danielle asked.

"Palpatine reported the break-in, of course. It was all over the news. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that it might be you!"

"We weren't stealing!" Annie defended herself viciously. At a look from Danielle, however, she grimaced. "Well--ah--I guess in the strictest sense of the word, we were stealing. But Laura led us in. She told us that Palpatine was--planning to betray the Republic, and she wanted us to help her get incriminating documents to take back to the council--"

"These," Danielle said, pulling the papers from where she'd stuffed them in her cloak and thrusting them at the Jedi. "She helped us get these papers, and there's a ton of downloaded information on that disk. It tells you everything you should need to know about Palpatine, his plans, passwords and everything--well, actually, we don't know what's on there, but that's what Laura said."

"Laura helped you get this information," Qui-Gon said slowly.

"Yes."

"But didn't she say she was Palpatine's aide?" Obi-Wan asked, frowning.

"She is. Was. Er, sort of." Danielle and Annie exchanged grimaces.

"So," Qui-Gon said, voice growing darker, "Laura is nothing more than a disgruntled employee who is trying to blackmail her employer to revenge herself, and you three were fools enough to help her?"

Annie's jaw dropped in outrage as Danielle stared, disbelieving, at Qui-Gon. "No," she stammered. "Of course not. Laura's not just an employee--she's his apprentice--well, one of them. She's a Sith!"

Shock was not a powerful enough word for the expression on the Jedi's faces now. "What?" Obi-Wan exclaimed, incredulously.

"Sith," Qui-Gon pronounced, coldly, "do not exist. They were wiped out millennia ago, and have not returned since."

"That's not true!" Annie yelled, as Danielle, face red, said, "Look, Qui-Gon, I know that's what all the Jedi think, but they're wrong. The Sith do exist, and Palpatine is one of them. If he's not stopped, he'll destroy the Jedi and the Republic and everything you've ever fought for!"

"So now Palpatine's the Sith," Obi-Wan said, trying to understand.

"Well, yeah--they both are!"

"But if Laura is also a Sith, why would she wish to betray her master in such a fashion?"

"Because he's evil, and she's not," Annie explained, rather un-helpfully. "So she helped us to get those papers to prove what he's doing--"

"So that is what you were doing, all that time?" Qui-Gon asked. "Snooping around Palpatine's estates with his former aide, looking for incriminating evidence of his Sithliness? Surely you couldn't have done that all night without being caught."

"But we _were_ caught--that's what took so long," Danielle said. "Well, actually, Laura betrayed us and turned us in, but it was just a trick. She helped us escape again, after that."

The two Jedi looked at each other. "So this Laura is a Sith who betrayed you and allowed you to be captured, all to get back at her employer, and now you want to go and rescue her?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice heavily disbelieving.

"No!" Danielle cried, frustrated. "It's--you're not understanding!"

"Clearly."

The two girls looked at each other in anguish. "Look, none of this matters right now," Annie said at last, fiercely. "Last night, Laura told us she could help us get papers that would prove what Palpatine is doing, so we broke into his estate to get them. When we tried to get back out again, Krista was shot and Laura had to stay behind to keep Palpatine from following us. You have to help us stop Atharca and Palpatine--and, if she's still alive, rescue Laura!"

"Stop them from doing what?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Destroying the galaxy," Annie said breathlessly.

For a moment there was a heavy silence as the two Jedi regarded one another.

"Please," Danielle pleaded, her voice shaking with passion. "_Please_, Obi, Qui. You have to believe us!"

It seemed ages that the two Jedi simply watched one another. At last, face stormy, Obi-Wan looked away, clearly upset. Qui-Gon, his face carefully emotionless, looked back at the two girls. "I'm sorry, Danielle," he said cordially, "but I do not."

Annie's jaw dropped, and Danielle felt like she'd been kicked in the chest. "What?" she whispered.

Obi-Wan looked at the ground now, hands clenched into fists at his sides, and it was again Qui-Gon who spoke. "From the very first day you arrived, you have lied to me--to us. You claimed to have no memory, yet continually you have proved that there are many details of your past that you remember quite clearly. Through odd--one might almost say incredible--circumstances, you continue to accidentally meet up with old 'friends' who also have implausible background evidence and no explanation of their appearance. Slowly, you have moved almost all these individuals in with us, infiltrating the Temple. Now, at last, the mystery is solved. This entire time, you have been planted here in an attempt to sabotage Senator Palpatine and this--this Atharca person."

Annie made a noise like a teakettle about to bubble over, but Danielle felt as though something inside her were breaking. "You don't believe that," she said, tone almost begging. "You can't."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, but Qui-Gon's were coldly merciless, boring into Danielle's. "In a guise of affection you gained our trust and began to gather your intelligences, lying to us continually about your actions, your friends, and your purpose. Danielle, do you think us stupid? Your conspirators are a girl from no background with no discernible purpose, who arrives via another pair of unsuspecting Jedi--"

"Wes and Dru trust me and owe me their lives," Annie interrupted equally coldly. "Ask them, if you will."

Qui-Gon's eyes flickered to her, but he continued speaking undisturbed. "--a young woman from Naboo, Palpatine's home planet--where you also claim to be from--and now a final young woman who is a disgruntled member of his household. Danielle--if that is really your name . . . I don't know who sent you, what master you truly answer to, but it is time to end the charade."

Danielle staggered a step backward, feeling a vague awareness of agony. It was true, she had lied to them, but only out of a desire to protect them, to keep them from thinking her insane. "Qui-Gon," she said, unsteadily, then had to pause a moment to regain her voice. "It is true, I have . . . lied to you. But not because I'm . . . some political saboteur or spy. I--we knew that if we tried to tell you the truth . . . and we don't fully understand ourselves . . . that you wouldn't believe us."

Qui-Gon made no answer.

Danielle stared at him, trying to detect some compassion or belief in his eyes, but at last gave up. Turning her gaze to the young man standing beside him, she summoned her voice and whispered, "Obi-Wan?"

He raised his head, and Danielle fancied she saw tears brimming in his eyes before Qui-Gon said coldly, "Obi-Wan agrees that there are too many suspicious circumstances surrounding your appearance and actions. Besides, he is under my tutelage, and he answers to my instructions."

Danielle waited. Obi-Wan flashed Qui-Gon a look of something almost like hatred, but then returned his gaze to the ground, unwilling to meet the two girls' eyes. "It is," he said, voice choked, "as my Master says."

"I am afraid," Qui-Gon continued, a thread of unhappiness now in his voice, "that you are no longer welcome here. Your things will be removed from our apartments, and as soon as your friend is recovered sufficiently you will be escorted from the premises."

In that instant, all hope quietly died inside Danielle, and she closed her eyes, willing it all to be untrue. Laura was captured, probably dead--Krista lay severely wounded in the hospital ward behind them--Atharca and Palpatine were poised to take over the galaxy . . . and the only people who could help them no longer believed or trusted them.

Beside her, she heard Annie say, "I don't care what you think about us--well, I care, but right now it doesn't matter. Just read the papers we've given you! Everything we've said--it's all right there! Their plans, their codes, their correspondences--"

Danielle opened her eyes, hope flaring within her again, only to feel it crushed when Qui-Gon shook his head. "These documents and information are the private property of Senator Palpatine, and I will respect his privacy and _not_ read them."

Annie's voice shook with disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I am quite serious."

"Well, if you won't read them, give them back to us! We'll find someone who isn't so--so thickheaded he won't even bother to look at them!" Annie demanded, holding out her hand. Qui-Gon pulled the papers away from her, shaking his head as he tucked them into his robes. "No. These papers are the property of Palpatine and I'm quite sure he will be wanting them back. As soon as I may, I will see that they are returned to him, _unharmed_."

Annie's jaw was working soundlessly; she was clearly too incensed to speak.

Qui-Gon stood looking at them for a minute longer, obviously wanting to speak, before he finally did, his voice strangled. "It seems that your plan has worked, at least in part, Danielle. Because Obi-Wan and I are both . . . fond of you, we will not have you taken into custody for breaking and entering Palpatine's estates. If you ever participate in any illegal activity again, however, we will show no such leniency."

"The bug!" Annie cried suddenly, causing them all to look at her in sudden surprise. "Your apartments are bugged, Laura's told us--somewhere in there is a line feeding straight to Palpatine or Atharca, I'm not sure which. They're watching you because they know you're--you're dangerous, you're important--just check, for God's sake!"

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged another glance, then Qui-Gon gave a stiff nod. "If you have nothing more but these attempts to convince us, then we must be leaving," Qui-Gon said. "We have urgent business elsewhere." He paused for only a moment, clearly struggling with deeply-hidden emotion, before he finished, "I suppose this is goodbye, then, Danielle, Annie."

Danielle couldn't speak through the sorrow in her throat; she simply closed her eyes again, nodding tightly.

As the two Jedi turned to leave, Annie leapt after them. "Wait!" As they turned back around, warily, she pleaded, "Can you at least tell us what all the mess is about? What's got everyone so excited?"

"The Trade Federation has taken control of Naboo. Queen Amidala is captured and perhaps dead, because no assistance was able to reach her in time, and the planet as a whole has surrendered," Obi-Wan said, finally speaking.

"The galaxy has erupted in turmoil," Qui-Gon added. "Several small planets allied with Naboo have declared war on the Trade Federation and are raising armies as we speak. It is war."

With that, the two Jedi swept from the room, leaving Annie and Danielle white with horror.

As Annie stood stock-still, Danielle suddenly felt dizzy and had to brace herself against the wall. "Oh my God," she said, voice trembling. "It's started--and we're only making it worse."

"Amidala is captured," Annie whispered. "Because no assistance . . . my God, we delayed them. We kept them from being sent back to her. It's _our fault_ Naboo has surrendered, and the war has begun ten years ahead of time."

"It's too late," Danielle said, breath hitching. "It's too late, we've lost, Atharca's won."

"No," Annie said, voice desperate. "No, it can't be. We have to do--something! We can't just let Atharca go without trying to stop him! Surely there's someone else we can go to . . ."

Danielle looked up suddenly. "The Jedi Council," she said abruptly. "I've met with them before; I think Yoda understands who I am and what's going on better than anyone else."

"Will he listen to us?" Annie asked, but they both knew she was really asking, Will he believe us?

"I . . . I don't know," Danielle said uncertainly. "But we have to try. Come on." She beckoned urgently, and the two girls took off, Danielle leading the way to the council chambers.

Several minutes later, extremely winded, they arrived at the antechamber to the Council, where two stern guards stopped them. "Who are you, and what is your business?"

"We need to address the council," Danielle panted. "It's urgent."

The guards exchanged glances, then looked at them suspiciously. "Do you have an appointment? Is the Council expecting you?"

"No," Danielle hedged, "but we _must_ speak to them, as soon as possible. We have information about the war."

One of the guards nodded briskly, then turned and vanished into the Council room. Within only a few minutes, he had returned. "The Council is extremely busy with matters concerning the war," he told them. "I'm afraid you'll have to get the permission of an elder Jedi or return later."

"Later?" Annie echoed. "How much later?"

"A few days, at least. It is probable that the Council will have little free time for the duration of the war."

Annie shook her head in mounting frustration as Danielle stepped forward. "Please, just let us speak to Master Yoda. Could you--could you tell him that Qui-Gon's ward is here, and needs to talk to him?"

"I am afraid Master Yoda has been called away on war business."

"When will he be back?"

"That is not known."

Danielle and Annie looked at each other, disbelieving. "Look," Danielle said, her patience deserting her, "you have to let us in to see them. We have news about the war that they MUST KNOW! If they don't see us . . . the fate of the galaxy may change!"

"I'm sorry," the guard said sternly, "but that is not possible. If you would like to schedule an appointment, we can get you in to see them in two or three days' time."

"That's too long!" Annie yelled. "It won't matter by then!"

The guards simply turned their faces away, refusing to answer.

Danielle and Annie waited a moment longer, hopelessly, before they both turned and slowly went back the way they came.

They'd barely made it around the corner before Annie stopped, seemingly frozen midstep. Danielle leaned against the wall and slowly slid down it until she was sitting on the floor, clutching her legs to her chest, eyes huge.

For a long time neither girl could speak. At last, Annie managed, stricken, "They're . . . They won't help us. No one will."

Danielle closed her eyes. "No," she whispered.

"The war's started . . . we're going to have to live through it all, just like you said. All the battles, all the Jedi dying . . . we couldn't stop it. We're going to have to watch it all."

"No," Danielle said, her voice hollow. "We won't." She looked up at Annie then. "Atharca will hunt us down and kill us before it ever comes to that."

Annie went white. "Then it's over," she said at last. "We've lost. There's nothing left to do."

"No," Danielle said, her voice strangely animated once more. "No, there's still something left for us to do. Even if no one will help us, _we_ still know what's going on. We can try and stop them."

Annie looked at her friend like she was insane. "But . . . but you agreed with me. Laura's probably already dead, and facing them would be suicide."

"I know," Danielle agreed heavily. "But we have to try." She hesitated. "I mean . . . if you agree with me."

"We don't stand a chance," Annie whispered. "We'll just be walking back into Palpatine's hands . . ."

"But now we have nowhere else to go," Danielle reminded her heavily.

For a long time, Annie didn't speak. When she did, her voice was strangely emotionless. "Then you're right," she managed, slowly. "There's nothing for us to do but . . . try."

The girls' eyes locked, and in that instant they understood each other perfectly. They would go back and try to stop Atharca, and both of them knew they were going to their own deaths.

"Well," Danielle said briskly, getting to her feet once more. "I think we should go and tell the healers that we're leaving, for when Krista's finished, before . . . we go."

Annie simply nodded, her eyes wide and vacant.

Before either of them could move, however, there was a strange pounding noise . . . followed by a familiar yipping howl. Danielle whirled around, eyes bright, just in time to see the feline monstrosity that flung itself onto her, tackling her to the ground.

"Sweetums!" she exclaimed, breathlessly. "Oh my big boy, my baby, you're here, you're all right! The healers finally fixed you all up!"

"This," Annie said, mixed amusement and apprehension in her voice, "is Sweetums?"

"Yes," Danielle responded, her heart lifting for the first time in ages. "Yes he is, my big sweetums, that's what he is," she baby-talked to her Nexu, who growled louder than ever in affection and began washing her face with his very rough tongue.

Annie yelped and leapt back to avoid a lash of the Nexu's deadly tail. "I thought you said he was cute!"

Danielle gave Annie a death glare. "He is."

Annie eyed the writhing, scaly, prickly monster. "Danielle, I'm as much a cat person as you are, but you've got to admit . . ."

Both Danielle and Sweetums turned to look at her, expressions identical.

Annie gulped. " . . . he may not look much like a cat, but he's just as cute," she said, amending her original statement.

"That's what we thought," Danielle sniffed, returning to fluffing Sweetums' fur.

After a few minutes, she managed to push him off and stand up. "Well, baby, I hate to say this when you just found me again, but I have to leave," she explained gently. "We're going somewhere very dangerous, and . . . you can't come. I'll leave you with Qui and Obi--"

Danielle was suddenly and unexpectedly knocked to the ground as Sweetums butted her emphatically. When she looked up, the Nexu had a determined gleam in his eye Danielle knew meant trouble.

"I mean it," she said warningly, standing back up. "It's going to be very dangerous, and you'd only get in the way. I don't want you to get hurt, so--"

With a _whump_, she was back on the floor again. Sweetums was now growling so loudly the very floor shook.

"I think he wants to come," Annie said conversationally.

"Well, he can't," Danielle growled, getting to her feet again. "I'm not going to let him come just so he can get killed--"

This time, Sweetums pounced, pinning her to the ground to glare at her from large intelligent eyes. "No," Danielle said emphatically. "You can't come!"

About three minutes passed as Annie watched with great interest. Sweetums was a very large, very heavy object, and resisted Danielle's every attempt to dislodge him.

"All right!" Danielle finally yelled, conceding defeat. "Okay, you can come! It's your own stupid hide!"

Sweetums, for all the world as if he could understand her words, yipped delightedly and gave her a huge lick from his extremely rough tongue. As Danielle spluttered and swiped at her face, Sweetums pulled back, looking supremely content.

"Okay," Danielle repeated after she had thoroughly scrubbed her face, "I guess Sweetums is coming. Now we just have to go and leave a message for Krista."

"Then we go," Annie said, and gloom overtook both of them once more.

The trip back to the healing ward was a silent one, even though Sweetums nudged the two girls occasionally, clearly unhappy with their melancholy air. When they arrived, they managed--barely--to convince Sweetums to wait outside, then went into the ward.

Inside, they found a stark contrast to their earlier arrival. The ward was completely deserted, the lights dimmed, and their footsteps echoed on the tiled floors and whitewashed walls.

"Hello?" Danielle called uncertainly. "Is anyone here?"

When after a moment no one responded, Annie added, "We need to leave a message for a friend of ours. . . . _Is_ anyone here?"

"Annie? Danielle? Is that you?"

The two girls whirled to see Krista--a very pale, gaunt, and weak-looking Krista, but Krista nonetheless--standing in a nearby doorway, clutching the frame. She wore a hospital smock over her still singed pants and a white bandage was wrapped around her waist, but she looked remarkably alert and un-pained. With twin cries of astonishment and joy, they rushed her, and for a moment a sloppy mass hug took place.

"What are you doing out here?" Annie asked at last. "You should be in bed!"

"Funny thing about being in the freakin' Jedi Temple," Krista grinned at them. "They have some badass healers. I'm not completely healed, but I will be soon, and I'm pretty much fine. It's good stuff."

"That's amazing," Annie breathed, and Danielle merely gave a small, pained smile.

Krista beamed for a moment, then her expression turned serious. "So," she said, voice grim, "what the hell is going on? I don't remember anything that happened after my getting shot except Laura putting me down in some hallway and then flying back here. What happened? Where's Laura?"

Together, Annie and Danielle explained what had taken place while Krista was unconscious, filling in different parts of the story according to who knew what. As Krista listened, her expression grew ever darker, and when they reached their arrival at the healing ward she interrupted. "So what was it you came here to tell me?"

Annie and Danielle exchanged a look. "We came to say that we're going back to Atharca's to get Laura."

Krista nodded agreement. "Wait just a sec and I'll grab my stuff."

"What?" Danielle exclaimed, and Annie said, "Krista, no, you can't! You're still injured!"

Krista whirled back to face them, expression black. "Excuse me? Do you mean to tell me that you came to say you were leaving _without me_? That you don't want me to go? Screw that," she said succinctly. "Laura's my friend, too, and I'm going."

"But you're hurt!"

"I'm not hurt bad, and it doesn't matter." Krista's flat voice brooked no argument. "I'm _going_."

Danielle and Annie looked at each other again as Krista disappeared back into her room, then shrugged. "The more the merrier, I guess," Annie said morosely as Krista reappeared, her boots back on and the hospital smock replaced with her equally singed shirt.

Krista finished pulling her clothing together and looked at them both with determination. "Damn straight. Come on, let's gather us some Jedi and go."

Danielle closed her eyes as Annie sighed. "Krista, I'm afraid we have some . . . explaining to do."

On the way to the hangar bay, Annie outlined their current situation: the loss of Qui and Obi's trust, their imminent banishment from the Temple, and their blame in causing the war to begin early. When she'd finished, Krista was even paler than before and the determination in her eyes had been replaced by a haunted look.

"So we're screwed, then," she said. It wasn't a question, but Annie responded anyway. "Yeah, but we have to try."

"I know. That's why I'm going with you." In the dimly lit corridor outside the hangar bay, Krista flashed her a wan smile. "We're in this together, right?"

"Right," Danielle agreed. "And this time, no one gets left behind, no matter what. Deal?"

"Deal," the other two chorused their agreement, and Krista added, "Come on, let's go and kick some Sith ass."

Danielle selected the same speeder they'd used on their last excursion since it was so familiar to her, and the three girls and Nexu piled in silently. Not bothering to clear their departure, Danielle simply exited the Temple, flying directly toward Palpatine's. No word was spoken of their departure; security simply let them go without a fuss.

It seemed no one expected them to return.

Outside, it was ironically the brightest part of the day, the sun shining merrily overhead. Danielle by now knew the way to Palpatine's and they navigated the narrow streets in complete silence until they came to a stop on the floating property as far from the main gates as possible. Danielle switched the speeder off, and they sat there, silent.

"So," Annie said at last. "Anybody got a plan?"

"Go in, rescue Laura, kill Palpatine and Atharca, save the day," Krista volunteered.

Danielle hit her head on the steering wheel. "This is not going to work."

"We don't have lots of numbers, good fighting skills, a great weapon . . . any advantage at all, really," Annie said. "If surprise isn't going to work, nothing else will."

"So we're really going to just barge in and see what we can do?" When no one answer, Danielle shook her head morosely. "Well, let's get going, then."

All three girls remembered the path Laura had led them on to enter the mansion by stealth, and as one they crept around the edge of the perfectly manicured lawn and then in through the back door into the kitchen. Sweetums trailed after them, smart enough to keep low and silent as the three girls were, and putting up no fuss.

Inside the actual building, their collective memory was a little fuzzier, and so they simply took whatever hallways felt right, hoping against hope they'd find some clue as to where Laura might be kept captive. For what seemed like ages they wandered an endless trail of dimly lit back halls, emerging occasionally into a larger hall or room, at every moment expecting to be discovered and captured. It never occurred, however, and they didn't so much as encounter a living soul.

Finally, they realized they'd found no trace of Laura and had no idea where she was, but after such a long time of wandering around pointlessly, they had discovered something else: the house was completely deserted. Not even a stray droid could be seen anywhere, and the emptiness was nothing short of spooky.

"Where _is_ everyone?" Krista finally asked, frustrated. "Are they all gone on holiday or something?"

Standing up straight from her stealthy crouch, Danielle pondered the question. "I guess Palpatine's sent them away because of the war," she said. "We just need to keep looking until we find her."

"No," Annie said suddenly, shaking her head. As the other two turned to look at her, she faced them with conviction. "Laura's not here, and neither is Palpatine. They wouldn't stay where they know someone might come to find them."

As Krista asked, "What makes you think that?" Danielle asked, "Where are they, then?"

Annie answered Danielle's question. "The building where Atharca had you," she said. "How far is it from here?"

Instantly Danielle understood. "You're right; of course they're there. To perform the ritual they need Atharca, and I don't think he'd come here." She shook her head, angry at her own failure to realize this sooner. "Come on, let's get out of here!"

Knowing the place to be deserted now, their exit was much more quick than their entrance. Just over an hour had elapsed as they searched the house for signs of inhabitant, so the sun was still bright overhead and traffic was thick as they left the wealthy neighborhood and Danielle struggled to remember how to get to Atharca's. Eventually, she flew back to the Temple and started from there, since that was the route she'd taken with Laura.

It was two hours later and the sun was lower in the sky when Danielle finally hit the brake, stopping them midair. "That," she said with conviction, pointing to a nearby skyscraper that from the outside appeared deserted. "That's it. See that scaffolding, there? That's where Laura parked when she came in to rescue me."

"Do you know how Laura got in without being noticed?" Annie asked.

Danielle frowned, brow furrowing as she tried to remember. "She said . . . she said something about a distraction. She had a friend, helping her, making sure they wouldn't notice her."

"Friend?" Krista asked. "Who?"

"She never said. I . . . I didn't get a chance to ask her again."

"One of us could do that," Annie said, swallowing.

"No." Danielle's voice was flat. "We're not leaving anyone behind, remember? That means no splitting up."

"All right." Annie pointed to the scaffolding. "We might as well park there, too; if it worked for Laura, it can't have been that bad of an idea."

They had no way of knowing if they were observed as Danielle settled the speeder onto the small, rickety platform and turned it off. "They probably saw that," Annie said, leaping out of the speeder, "so the best thing to do now is hurry.

Sweetums was the next out of the speeder, long tail lashing impatiently, and Krista and Danielle followed. They were now presented with a unique problem: how to actually get inside the building.

Their earlier exit, the window they'd shattered in their leap from the building, was no less than two stories overhead, and there were no other conveniently placed windows nearby. "How did Laura get in in the first place?" Annie asked, staring up at the window.

"Well, she's a Sith. I guess she just jumped," Danielle replied.

"Can you do that?"

Danielle fought her irritation. "No. I never learned it. I guess I could try, but I _really_ don't want to mess up." She looked meaningfully over the scaffolding to the near-endless drop below.

"Don't worry," Krista said suddenly. "It's not a problem."

Annie frowned at her. "What do you mean, it's--ahhhh!" Her words dissolved into a shriek, quickly stifled, as she felt her booted feet lift from the scaffolding and rise into the air. Around her, Danielle, Krista, and Sweetums were also levitating, Danielle looking shocked and Sweetums thrashing and growling in obvious displeasure. Krista's eyes were closed and her face was screwed up in obvious effort, but their flight was smooth--the four rose into the air to the appropriate height and, with much less grace, Krista dumped them into the building, sending Sweetums tumbling and knocking Danielle's head against the ceiling.

"Ow!" Danielle exclaimed, rubbing her head as she picked herself up from the ground. "Krista, how did you do that?"

As the others stood up and shook themselves off, Krista remained where she had been, panting and clearly exhausted. "It's . . . my gift, whatever it is," she said, voice somewhat hoarse. "I float things and blast people. Very handy." Slowly, she got to her feet, and Annie leapt to help her. She could stand on her own, but all the blood had drained from her face and she was clutching her side where the blaster shot had hit her.

"Are you all right?" Danielle asked, worried, but Krista waved her off. "I'm fine," she wheezed. "Just . . . let's get moving, all right? We don't have much time before they come after us."

Danielle drew her lightsaber, and the other two girls drew their blasters. They were in the lair of the enemy now, and who knew what could come around the corner at any moment. Danielle's skin was already pricking at the possibility of encountering more of the awful faceless creatures Atharca had created.

"Where now?" Annie finally asked, breaking the silence.

Danielle paused, then realized in horror she had very little idea what the layout of this building was like. She'd only seen the route she'd taken to escape, and she couldn't imagine where out of all that Atharca might keep his prisoners. "I don't know," she said, horrified. "I'd call to Laura through the Force, like I did before, but Palpatine might hear me. He's a Sith, too."

"Shit," Krista said with feeling. "So you mean we just get to do like we did at Palpatine's house, wandering around opening doors until we stumble across her? That's never going to work!"

Behind them, Annie's brow knitted in concern. "Maybe we could--" Her voice cut off with a gasp, and the other two girls could only watch in shock as the clutched at her throat and staggered backward, eyes unfocused. Before they could recover enough to move to help her, Annie's eyes cleared, and she stood back upright, holding her head. "My God, that hurts. It's almost not worth it."

"What _happened_?" Danielle asked, shocked, but Krista already knew. "She had a premonition! Annie, what's going to happen?"

Still rubbing her head, Annie said, "God, I think that hurts more every time it happens. It's convenient, though. We're going to find Laura, that's what's going to happen. She's here, she's alive, she's all right! I saw her, and I know where she is. Come on!" she said, taking off at a sprint. The three others were left with no choice but to follow.

Annie clearly knew exactly where she was going; she cut through small, less-used halls and bounded up ancient emergency staircases with a cool efficiency, the others scrambling to keep up. At last they emerged into a small but clearly well-trafficked hallway--and stopped dead at the sight of three figures already standing there.

They all skidded to a stop, shocked. Danielle muffled a small scream, Annie gasped, and Krista almost retched at the sight before them: three of the faceless wraiths, clearly on patrol duty of some kind, turned and regarded them from eyeless faces. Behind them, Sweetums whined in obvious distress, shrinking away from the monstrosities and trying to escape.

"I didn't see this happening!" Annie exclaimed, still horrified, as Krista hissed, "Danielle, what the hell _are_ those?"

"Wraiths--people whose souls Atharca's eaten," Danielle said. "But they can morph into anyone they want--warriors, whatever."

"They're leaving," Annie observed in astonishment, for surely enough after their initial moment of surprise the wraiths had turned to scurry away in the opposite direction.

"They're going to call for help! Stop them!" Danielle yelled.

To their credit, the two girls hesitated only a moment before raising their guns. At this close range, there was no chance of missing; their first two shots took down the two nearest wraiths, and they slumped to the floor, motionless except for the restoration of their features.

The other, too quick, dodged their shots, already morphing as it did. When it sprang to its feet again a huge, heavily muscled man faced them, raising a sort of stun-stick with deadly efficiency.

Danielle threw herself forward, ignited lightsaber held aloft, and swung at the behemoth. He dodged, almost effortlessly, and as Danielle danced back to try another lunge he brought the stun stick around in a powerful blow Danielle barely ducked. The next one she instinctively caught on her lightsaber, and the metal parted beneath the glowing laser, the top half tumbling away and the bottom continuing uninhibited to strike Danielle on the arm. As she screamed in pain, staggering back, the giant moved in for the kill . . .

. . . and suddenly stopped, eyes wide, before slumping gracelessly to the floor, expression vacant, two smoldering holes in his chest. Annie and Krista both lowered their guns as Danielle slowly got back to her feet, wincing a little. "Thank you," she said quietly, and they nodded.

Krista finally broke the silence, saying, "There's no way they didn't hear that; now they must know we're here. Annie?"

Annie blinked, but recovered quickly. "Right--this way," she said, and they took off once more. Sweetums, who had slunk nearly to the opposite end of the hall in his terror, bounded to catch up with them as Annie led them around the corner and into another well-lit hallway.

Two halls later, they'd encountered no one else, and Annie finally stopped in front of an innocuous white door. "In there!" she directed, pointing, and Danielle did not hesitate. Knowing the door would be locked, she drew her lightsaber in a slicing motion along the edge of the door, cutting through the locks so that it swung open under her touch. The three girls leapt inside, Sweetums following them into the rather spacious room.

The girls stopped short at what they saw within, for few yards beyond the door the right corner of the room formed a sort of glowing cage of energy. Lines of power like the bars of a jail cell shimmered from floor to ceiling, both beautiful and deadly. In the enclosed space between the lasers and the wall sat Laura.

In the initial moment of surprise, they had a chance to see her clearly. Outwardly, she seemed unharmed, sitting easily on the hard metal floor and gazing up at them. On closer examination, small details began to be discernible. Heavy black circles weighted her eyes, and her lips were scabbed in a way that meant they'd been bleeding very heavily recently. Her palms and fingers were crisscrossed with long, thin burn lines--rather like she'd tried to touch the lasers of her confinement and come off the worse for it. Worse of all, though, a strange scent rather like charred meat hung in the air, and in her clothing they could discern thousands of tiny pinpricks where Dark energy had been pumped into her.

At first, none of them spoke; then, unmoving, Laura said stupidly, "It's . . . it's you." She goggled at them. "What the hell are you _doing_ here?"

"We're rescuing you," Annie said, and Krista added, "That is what friends do, after all."

Laura's shock was instantly gone. "You're WHAT?!" Laura leapt to her feet, and though she was clearly exhausted and weak, her eyes blazed with anger. "You freaking _idiots_! You--you came back! _Here_, no less!"

"Of course," Danielle said, shocked at Laura's display. "We thought--"

"You thought _what_? That you'd come and just make Atharca's day? I sacrificed myself--very nobly, I might add--so that you could escape, and now you all just come back again, like . . . like bloody boomerangs!"

All three stared at her, too astonished to speak.

"Don't you see?" Laura screamed. "It's a trap--he kept me alive to lure you back here so he could perform the ritual--I just never thought you'd be STUPID enough to fall for it! Don't you understand me? IT'S A TRAP! HE'S WAITING FOR YOU!"

Danielle snapped her lightsaber up and whirled to face the doorway as Krista and Annie stepped back in shock. "What?" Annie gasped dumbly.

"What's not to understand? Get the hell out of here, NOW!"

"But what about you?" Krista demanded.

Laura beat her hands against the lasers, forgetting that this would cause them to brand new lines into her flesh. "It's too late for me! That's the choice I made, and you know it! But you still have a chance, if you JUST LEAVE NOW!"

"I'm afraid," a rich voice said from the hall, "that it's rather too late for that, my dears."

Krista and Annie jumped back, whipping up their guns, and Danielle, desperately hoping the element of surprise might aid her, lunged with lightsaber extended. Atharca made a simple gesture and Danielle screamed in pain, dropping her lightsaber and falling to her knees to clutch vainly at her stomach. Another gesture and the lightsaber, along with Krista and Annie's blasters, zoomed behind him into the hall as they fumbled for them.

With a gargantuan roar, Sweetums sprang from the shadows, leaping straight at Atharca with claws extended. For the briefest of moments the little old man's widened in what might have been fear--then, another gesture, and Sweetums checked mid-leap to fall in a motionless heap to the floor.

In less than ten seconds, they were defeated.

Behind them, in the cell, Laura moaned, "Noooo," and sank to her knees, all hope leaving her. Danielle, still doubled over in pain, whispered, "Sweetums!" Extending a hand, she tried to crawl toward him, only to collapse on the floor, wracked with agony from some unknown inner source.

"So," Atharca said cheerfully, surveying his handiwork. "I must admit this is a pleasant surprise. I hadn't looked forward to hunting you down and ferreting you out of the Temple under the nose of all those Jedi, but here you are, right where I wanted you! Thank you so much for all your help, dears!"

As Annie glared at him with utter hatred, Krista told him firmly what he could do to himself. Atharca threw his head back, laughing. "My, my," he said, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye, "you're a feisty one, aren't you?"

"They all," another voice from the hallway intoned, "are formidable in their own right. You would be best not to underestimate any of them."

As Krista hissed in hatred, Palpatine stepped into the room, surveying the scene coldly. "Excellent. I believe we may now proceed with our plans."

"Indeed." Atharca beamed at all of them. "I see no sense in waiting, or even in putting them in cells. They have an irritating penchant for escape or being rescued. The room is all prepared; I believe we should just begin the ritual immediately."

"I have no problem with that," Palpatine said, nodding his head in deference. "Although," he added, turning to look at the occupant of the energy cage, "I would enjoy a chance to . . . play with them a little more first."

Atharca pondered this. "I can only sacrifice them one at a time. You may amuse yourself as you like with the others while I work on each."

In the cage, Laura pulled herself to her feet again, and there was rage like Annie and Krista had never seen in her eyes. "I'll see you in hell for this," she promised, voice low and shaking with emotion. "The both of you. I swear it."

"That would be more intimidating, perhaps, in other circumstances," Atharca informed her, the light gleaming on his spectacles. "Although you in particular have proved to be quite a nuisance."

"She has been more than a nuisance; she is a traitor and a deceiving wretch who has personally offended me," Palpatine said, walking to the cage and eyeing Laura with equal loathing. "And for that, my dear, you will be the last to go. You will get to watch as we slaughter all your little friends, one by one, until it's your turn. And then," he gave a horrible, soulless smile, "we will rule all."

"Yes, yes," Atharca said pleasantly. "No sense talking about it instead of doing it, though, is there? We mustn't waste any more time." He beckoned, and into the room came six wraiths, all bowing deferentially.

He and Palpatine looked at them one more time, mockingly--Krista clutching her wounded side as Annie fought to help keep her upright, Danielle motionless on the floor from Atharca's attack, Laura battered nearly senseless within the cell--then turned to his wraiths. "Bring them to the sacrifice chamber. We will begin the ritual shortly."


	20. Conflict, Confrontation, and Sacrifice

A/N: My God, it's the longest chapter in the history of fanfiction! This baby is just about thirty pages, even, if you can believe it. I thought about breaking it up into two chapters and posting them separately, but this is the big climactic scene, and I figured someone would shoot me if I left it with that big of a cliffhanger. So, instead of trimming it down or splitting it, I just decided you all could handle an insanely long chapter, et voila, chapter twenty.

As always, I owe so much to all my reviewers. Everyone who takes the time to stop and tell me what they think of this story encourages me just that much more to keep writing. Also, I wrote this chapter listening rabidly to any John Williams I could get my hands on, and it's just not the same without its musical accompaniment.

As you all have guessed, this miniature saga is coming to a close (woo-hoo!), and things are about to get really crazy. I've said it before, but I've never meant it this much: grab tight and hang on for the wildest ride yet, and as always, enjoy!

(Added note: Whoops, my last upload cut off my last sentence! So here's the correction. Sorry about that! P.S.: Whoever gives me my hundredth review gets a cookie.)

* * *

TWENTY

* * *

The wraiths gave them no time to recover or even to plan; two instantly picked up the motionless Danielle and, hoisting her above their heads, took her from the room as Annie and Krista yelled in protest. When they tried to follow, three of the remaining four emotionlessly pointed blasters at them, freezing them in place, as the fourth went into the hallway only to return with three more wraiths a moment later. Annie could not help but wonder how many such wraiths existed; Atharca seemed to have an unending supply of them, and on top of that Palpatine had his own troops. Truly they were far too outnumbered.

Four of the wraiths went to the motionless Nexu, then transformed into huge, bulking men who among them easily lifted the half-grown beast over their shoulders. As they carried Sweetums after Danielle, two of the wraiths approached Annie and Krista, putting binders on their hands and holding them at gunpoint. Making certain Laura could see the helplessness of her comrades, the third went to a control panel on the wall and, after a few minutes of typing, deactivated the laser cage. Laura could do nothing but stand helplessly, fuming, as binders were placed on her wrists and she too was put at gunpoint, then all three of them were also led into the hallway. In the hall waited--surprise!--even more wraiths, and they surrounded the three girls, following the limp forms of Danielle and Sweetums.

Krista and Annie walked slowly, numbly, unable to think what to do or say. Laura, however, thrashed like a mad thing, forcing a crowd of wraiths to restrain her.

"Kitty!" she screamed, her voice echoing down the metallic hall. "They're taking us to the sacrifice chamber now! This is our last chance! KITTY!"

Still struggling, Laura was hauled out of sight and around the corner as Krista and Annie stared after her blankly.

"And now, to top it off, Laura has gone insane," Krista said flatly. "Could this get any better?"

"I think it's about to," Annie said glumly.

Had Danielle but been awake, she might have explained to the other two girls what Laura was saying; but, as chance had it, she was not, and so in all ignorance they were led around the corner. Thus they did not hear, moments later, when a gravelly, incredibly deep voice called hesitantly, "Laura?"

Down, down the wraiths led them, taking them on ill-lit flights of stairs that seemed to spiral endlessly into the building's echoing depths. Laura had finally lapsed into silence and allowed herself to be led passively down the stairs to the sacrifice chamber.

After a small and terrible eternity, they ended their descent, and the wraiths led them across a hallway and opened a set of heavy metal doors. Filing into the room beyond, Krista and Annie's jaws dropped as they stared into a square chamber with black walls, ceiling, and floor. Torches placed at random intervals gave guttering, uncertain light, and the fluorescents overhead had been dimmed to a low, uneasy setting.

In the room's center, a circular area about ten feet in diameter had sunk down about a meter below the floor, and several steps led down to the platform below. At the edge of the circle stood Palpatine and Atharca, both watching with undisguised eagerness as the prisoners were brought into the room. All around the room was a ring of wraiths, cloaked and hooded and very obviously armed, clearly present to ensure the ritual succeeded.

If the girls had ever had any hope of escaping, it was soon dashed. "Close and lock the doors behind you," Atharca instructed the wraiths gently. "We don't want anyone interrupting us, now do we?"

As the wraiths hastened to do as he had instructed, Annie scanned the room frantically. In the dimness of the far edge of the room, she thought she could make out another exit; a small metal door, sealed, and guarded by two wraiths. Except for that, however, the doors behind them were the only means of entering or leaving the room.

Atharca stepped forward, eyes gleaming behind his spectacles, and eyed his prisoners thoughtfully. "I had so wanted to kill the Jedi brat first," he mused, "but it will be no fun if she is still unconscious when I do so." His eyes flickered to Annie then, and he gave a frosty smile. "Perhaps it is more appropriate to kill the prophet first anyway. After all, we are destroying the future today; the symbolism is quite nice."

Atharca gestured to the wraiths. "Put the others in the corner, and bring the prophet to me," he instructed, and Laura, Krista, and the still motionless Danielle were led across the room where their binders were attached to hooks on the wall, securing them in place.

Annie stared uncomprehendingly as the wraiths dragged her across the floor to Atharca. Behind her, she could hear Krista screaming, "_Annie_!" and Palpatine's amused chuckle, but none of it truly registered.

Stumbling, she allowed herself to be led down the stairs to the reverse dais. In the middle of the circle was a table, metal shining pristinely in the dim light, with four straps at its corners. Sitting on its edge, gleaming, were two ornately carved knives.

Only when the wraiths pushed her onto the table and began spreading her limbs, clearly intending to strap her down, did the reality of what was about to happen hit Annie. "No," she said, disbelieving, then she screamed it. "NO! Let me go, please--" But when she saw Atharca's obvious amusement, she forced herself to swallow the words, even though she thought she might die of fear. With reserves of courage she'd never known she possessed, she bit her tongue and glared at him. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of begging.

"It is such a great pleasure to finally see one's dreams realized," Atharca said, mistily, as the wraiths strapped Annie to the table. He picked up one of the knives and ran a hand along the blade, feeling the ornate carvings. "The research I had to conduct to find what ritual would negate the spirits in the pendants without destroying the pendants themselves . . ." He looked at Annie and gave her a grandfatherly smile. "You are about to be the first subject of an elaborate experiment, my dear. You should be honored."

Annie, squirming ineffectually against her restraints, gave him a death glare despite her trembling. This was the moment to speak out defiantly, foresee his doom, quip, or even swear, but she couldn't seem to make her mouth shape words.

"No last words then? Very well. With that, we--"

"Atharca!"

Atharca's head whipped up, as did Annie's, and she looked hopefully for the source of the shout. To her disappointment, however, it was only Laura, shackled to the wall and staring at Atharca with blazing eyes.

"Yes?" he said, impatiently.

"You know that this will never succeed," Laura said, her gaze dark and intent.

"Do I?" Atharca asked impatiently.

"For the pendants to ever function correctly, we must be living. Our living energies are now bound to them. If you kill us, all the power will leave them. If you ever hope to see our galaxy, you cannot kill any of us!"

"Is that so?"

"I have researched these pendants for years, and I know it to be so. Ask Palpatine, my master," she replied, the last phrase dripping with venom.

"It is true, she has researched," Palpatine said thoughtfully from his position at the edge of the dais. "But then, you have as well."

"Yes, I have," Atharca said, looking steadily at Laura. "And who ever said I was going to _completely_ kill her? She will remain alive for quite some time, until I have harnessed all the energy from her pendant as my own. But thank you for your helpful advice." Turning, he bent back over Annie.

"No!" Laura shouted, and now the desperation in her voice was apparent. "Look, I'm telling you, this is a mistake!"

"My dear Palpatine," Atharca said, his voice bored, "I do believe the girl is trying to stall me."

"As do I. Though to what purpose, I cannot imagine," Palpatine agreed, voice disdainful.

"How true. Give it up, girl," Atharca said, voice turning suddenly dark. "There is nothing left for you to do but watch your friend die."

Turning a final time to Annie, Atharca raised his knife and gave her a demonic smile. "And now," he whispered, "my victory will be complete."

"Not," a voice called contemptuously, "just yet, Atharca."

This time, the voice was not Laura's.

Atharca and Palpatine whirled, both shocked, and Annie's head snapped up again as she struggled vainly to see. The voice had come from the far side of the room, but . . . there was no one there but wraiths.

Then, oh-so-slowly, two of the figures stepped away from the others, reaching within their robes and pulling forth beautifully familiar black cylinders. "You see," the other said, conversationally, "that prophet happens to belong to us. We wouldn't take kindly to you harming her." And, with that, they pushed back their hoods.

"DRU!" Annie screamed, her voice raw with relief. "WES!"

"Jedi!" Palpatine spat, clearly enraged, as Atharca stared in disbelief. After only a moment, however, he hissed, "No!" and raised the knife again.

As it began its flashing descent, however, Dru made a sharp gesture from across the room, and Atharca staggered as if struck by an invisible hand, the knife falling clattering to the floor. Dru gestured again, her dark eyes blackened with hatred, and Atharca was slammed backward to trip on the stairs, nearly falling to the floor.

"Dru!" Annie sobbed. "But--how--?"

"We followed you," Wes explained, clearly in a much calmer mood than his partner. "We heard about your falling-out with Jinn and Kenobi, and when they explained what happened, we knew something was wrong. So Dru and I followed you--first to Palpatine's estate, and now here. When you were captured, we killed two wraiths and took their cloaks, so we wouldn't be discovered and captured as well. And a good thing we did," he said with asperity, giving her a disapproving stare. "Needing to be rescued again, I see."

Right now Annie thought his patronizing disapproval was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. "Be careful!" she yelled. "They're dangerous--Palpatine's a Sith!"

"A Sith?" Wes said, shocked, as Dru's eyes merely darkened further. "We'll take care of it, Annie," she assured her coolly.

"This is a setback," Atharca said with irritation, ascending from the lowered circle to Palpatine's side, "but not a large one. Shall I deal with it, or you?"

"I have suffered the existence of Jedi for long enough," Palpatine hissed, glaring at Wes and Dru with hatred. Atharca nodded, taking a few steps backward to watch.

As one, Dru and Wes shrugged off their cloaks, letting them fall to the floor. With that same eerie synchronization, they ignited their lightsabers.

Palpatine spread his arms, looking at them with raised eyebrows. "Well? I'm waiting, oh brave Jedi," he sneered.

Wes and Dru exchanged a glance, then Dru nodded, once. As one, they turned back to look at Palpatine.

From the other side of the room, Laura suddenly yelled, "No, Jedi, look out! You don't realize--"

But it was too late. The Jedi were moving before she could finish, rushing across the room to Palpatine, who stood waiting for them with a lascivious grin of anticipation on his face. As they drew near, he raised his hands, lazily--and suddenly a stream of violet dark Force energy crackled from his fingertips.

Dru yelped and leapt aside, throwing herself to the ground and rolling away to dodge, the lightning barely missing her. Wes, shocked, flung up a hand instinctively, and he somehow repulsed the dark energy, sending it streaming around him to either side.

As Wes staggered back, still stunned, Palpatine turned his attention on Dru, who was struggling back to her feet. With an evil grin, he raised his hands again, aiming for the hapless Jedi.

"Dru, NO!"

Dru looked up as the lightning streamed toward her, dark and deadly--but, quicker than thought, Wes flung himself in its way. Clearly he had intended to try and catch the lightning on his saber, but instead it struck him full on his torso, knocking his lightsaber from his hand. Dru could do nothing but watch as it picked him up, writhing and screaming, and flung him back to the ground where he lay panting and moaning, clearly unable to stand.

"Wes!" Dru screamed, flinging herself across the floor to kneel at his side, face distraught.

"That was disgustingly easy," Palpatine said, his voice disappointed. "It's almost an insult to finish them off now."

"The excellent part is that we don't have to," Atharca informed him reassuringly. Glancing around the room, his voice suddenly hardened. "Wraiths!" he boomed.

Every cowled head within the room snapped to stare directly at him.

"Take a fighting form and rip these two Jedi," he gestured at Wes and Dru, "limb from limb."

In synchronization, the wraiths bowed, then straightened. Slowly, each one's features began to morph, transforming into a fierce fighter to better destroy the Jedi.

"Dru, look out!" Annie screamed, jerking her chin to indicate the wraiths, and Dru heard her. Glancing up, her eyes went wide with astonishment and fear as, all around the room, the now-transformed wraiths discarded their cloaks, grabbed various weapons, and began to move toward her.

"Now that's taken care of," Atharca said, glancing at Palpatine, "I think it's time we got on with this ritual."

As he walked back toward Annie, Dru rose, lightsaber gleaming in her hand, clearly ready to die defending Wes. Before the wraiths reached her, however, a sudden pounding noise caught everyone's ear. It came from the small metal door Annie had noticed when they'd first come in.

For a moment, nothing happened . . . then, with a creak of protesting metal, the small door ripped itself from its hinges and fell clattering to the floor. At first the silhouette in the doorway was unrecognizable; then, as he stepped into the room, the countenance of an enraged Sith Lord emerged from the shadows.

"Oh, shit," Krista moaned, staring at the new arrival. "What now?"

Annie, too, closed her eyes, feeling all hope leave her--then, she heard Palpatine spit, "Maul!" as Laura yelled, joyfully, "Kitty!"

Dumbfounded, Krista and Annie stared as Darth Maul drew a crimson lightsaber and snarled maliciously at the stunned Palpatine and Atharca, wrath distorting the intricate red and black tattoos covering his face. Igniting his blade, he turned to Laura, and his features softened into something almost like affection. "Laura," he growled, and she beamed at him.

"No," Krista said into the unexpected stillness. "I don't believe it. I don't freaking _believe_ it."

As Atharca hissed angrily to Palpatine, "You let him _escape_?!" Laura announced to the room, "Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you my comrade in deception, my fellow Sith, my ace in the hole: the one and only Darth Maul!--or, as I more affectionately call him, 'Kitty'."

As Krista and Annie simply waited, still too stunned to react, Atharca snarled to his wraiths and Palpatine, "_Kill him_!" and all hell broke loose.

Darth Maul moved with the same unnatural speed and grace as the Jedi as he flung himself across the room--not toward his former master Palpatine, not to the beleaguered Dru, but to Laura, still tied to the wall at Krista and Danielle's side. The wraiths flung themselves in his way, trying to stop him, but they were simply no match for the Sith Lord; the scarlet lightsaber cleaved a path through them as a knife through butter.

As Dru, still hovering over the fallen Wes, raised her own lightsaber and began to defend against the blaster bolts of the wraiths, Atharca thundered over the din, "Remember, DON'T HURT THE GIRLS! None of them must die!"

In little more than the space of a heartbeat, Maul was at Laura's side. A sure swipe of his lightsaber and Laura snatched her hands from the wall, flinging the scalding metal of the binders from her wrists. To compound Krista and Annie's shock, she reached out and clasped the Zabrak's hand affectionately for a brief moment, then released him and with the same hand called Wes' dropped lightsaber to her hand.

"Go and distract Palpatine," she instructed him. "Don't let him or Atharca touch Annie."

With a grim nod, Maul leapt into the fray once more, his lightsaber whirling around him as he raced to the still-trapped Annie's side. Laura, meanwhile, turned and deflected shots for a moment, defending herself and Krista and Danielle. When she had a break, she turned and instantly slashed the binders from Danielle's hands, freeing her.

Moaning slightly, Danielle's eyes fluttered open slowly. "Wha . . . whur . . . ?" she mumbled.

"This would be a great time to wake up, Danielle," Laura informed her, returned to deflecting shots as the wraiths began to close in.

Danielle's eyes opened, filled with wariness. "I've been unconscious again, haven't I? I spend _way_ too much time passed out." She focused on the chaos before her, and her jaw dropped open. "Whoa," she said, shocked.

"Laura," Krista said, still unable to believe what she'd just seen. "How . . . ?"

Laura flashed a grin at her over her shoulder. "We've been fellow apprentices under Palpatine for two years; that does tend to form some lasting bonds. I can be a pretty persuasive speaker, too--and besides, I'm quite a bit nicer than ol' Palpy."

Danielle still hadn't quite caught up. "Is that--Darth _Maul_?"

Laura ignored her. "You remember when I rescued Danielle? He helped me do that. And when I had a 'distraction' when I was rescuing you from Palpatine--that was him, too." Seizing another break in the shots, she turned and slashed Krista free, too. "He was captured that day, for helping me. Atharca's been keeping him imprisoned here; he must have heard me when I yelled for him, and gotten free somehow."

"_Darth Maul_?!"

"Yes," Laura told Danielle impatiently. "Kitty."

From the dais, Annie's voice rose in something akin to a shriek. "If no one is too busy, I wouldn't mind being UNTIED right now!"

"We've no time," Laura snapped. "We've got to help Annie before Atharca--"

Krista scooped up a fallen blaster from the floor. "I'm on it," she said grimly, and took off through the wraiths toward the dais at the center of the room.

Danielle meanwhile, had spotted Sweetums. "Laura, cover me while I free Sweetums!" she yelled, and Laura nodded compliance, her lightsaber flashing as she bisected a wraith who drew too close. Together, the girls rushed to Sweetums's side, and Danielle tugged the bindings from around the Nexu as Laura deflected volley after volley of shots. At last, the Nexu was free, and Danielle shook him until, with a pitiful yipping mew, he raised his great head.

Laura disarmed a nearby wraith and flung its blaster to Danielle, who caught it expertly. As Danielle crouched and began picking off wraiths, Laura sprinted to aid Dru, who was still heavily beset by wraiths at Wes's side.

Across the room, Krista yelped, and Danielle and Laura turned and saw that she had been stopped at the edge of the circular pit by Atharca. Unerringly, Krista raised her gun and snapped off a shot directly at his chest, but with a gestured he brushed the deadly bolt aside, and another wave of his hand sent Krista sprawling across the room. Sneering, he turned and started to descend into the pit where Annie still lay helplessly bound. Krista leapt to her feet and would have gone to Annie again instantly, but a heavily muscled wraith attacked her and she was forced to defend herself instead.

Laura and Danielle exchanged glances over the melee, and as one they left what they were doing to sprint to the pit, leaving Dru to defend Wes and Sweetums to leap, fangs bared and snarling, into a group of wraiths.

Laura reached the pit first and instantly flung up her lightsaber, deflecting the shot Atharca fired at her. Rolling to avoid a blast of energy, she ducked under another shot and came up under Atharca's guard, swinging her lightsaber. Atharca leapt back, and the blate bit only through his voluminous cloak. Snarling, he made a rough gesture with both hands, and Laura was slammed up out of the pit to sprawl on the floor, doubled up in pain, as her lightsaber fell from nerveless fingers and rolled away.

Grinning evilly in anticipation, Atharca stalked across the floor to where Laura struggled to get to her feet. Danielle reached out a hand, however, and called Laura's dropped blade to her hand, then lunged at Atharca.

Atharca barely leapt back in time to avoid the blow, and he hissed, turning to face Danielle full-on as she paled. "You dare to defy _me_, girl?" he mocked, but Danielle held her ground, raising her lightsaber defensively.

Laura's eyes met Danielle's briefly, then she hauled herself painfully to her feet, using Atharca's distraction to slip past him into the pit. Weaponless, her fingers fumbled clumsily with the straps binding Annie's right hand as Annie urged her to hurry.

From the chaos of the largest group of wraiths, Dru cried, joyously, "_Wes_!" as her partner, slowly but surely, hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the pain. His eyes flickering over the chaos, he saw Atharca advancing on Danielle as she helplessly retreated before him.

Gathering his strength, Wes extended a hand and _pushed_, and Atharca staggered, the blow he'd been aiming at Danielle knocked off course. Dru, realizing what her partner was doing, shouted, "Catch!" and flung her own lightsaber to Wes as he dove to Danielle's aid, crouching at her side as Atharca came angrily toward them.

On the far side of the pit, Darth Maul and Palpatine circled each other warily. Casually, Palpatine sent a wave of black energy at Maul, and the Zabrak whipped up his lightsaber and caught it on one of the twin blades, snarling in silent challenge. When Palpatine glanced into the pit, he saw Laura had succeeded in freeing one of Annie's hands, and rage contorted his features. Knocking Maul aside with another pulse of dark energy, he whirled and pointed a clawlike hand at Laura. "Apprentice! _Obey_!"

In the pit, standing at Annie's side, Laura suddenly stiffened, her face stiff with fear. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Oh no, not now."

"Laura--?" Annie said, horrified, as her friend began to shake, a terrifying blackness creeping into her gaze.

"Laura!" Palpatine shrieked from above. Even as Maul recovered and attacked him once more, Palpatine continued. "Hear my command and obey!"

With a gasp of agony, Laura doubled over beside the table, clutching her stomach and squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to block out her Master's command.

Realizing something was wrong, Annie began struggling to pull her hand loose of its strap, then desperately began fumbling to free her left hand. As she worked, she gasped, "No, Laura, don't listen to him!"

Above them, Palpatine's voice thundered, resonating with dark power. "Laura! OBEY!"

For a moment Laura sat stock-still, not moving; then, in a single fluid motion, she rose, and there was nothing of Laura in her eyes. "I hear and obey, my master," she intoned, bowing.

Annie, looking at Laura, felt all the blood drain from her face. "Laura, no!"

With a cackle of delight, Palpatine pointed at Annie, who was struggling madly to untie her left hand. "Restrain her," he ordered, and Laura moved instantly to obey. She caught Annie's thrashing right hand and forced it back to the table even as Annie pleaded with her, trying to appeal to whatever of Laura might be left within this expressionless creature. It availed nothing; with quick, efficient motions, Laura strapped Annie's right hand back down, then stepped away, heedless of her friend's pleas.

"Excellent!" Palpatine crowed, glancing over from his battle with Maul. When he had a free moment, he reached within his robes, then pulled free a disengaged lightsaber hilt, tossing it to Laura. She ignited it the moment her hand closed around the cool metal, the scarlet blade emerging with an ominous _snap-hiss_ and painting the air around her crimson. Turning her face to her Master, she stood silent, awaiting instruction.

Palpatine pointed to Danielle, who along with Wes was very busy trying not to be killed by Atharca at that moment in time. "Kill the Jedi," he ordered.

Laura simply bowed again, crisp and professional. Turning sharply on her heel, she took the stairs two at a time and strode toward her prey.

Danielle, meanwhile, had not been having an easy time of things. She and Wes had so far managed to evade death and major injury and had succeeded in distracting Atharca, but she wasn't sure how much longer they could last. She and Wes were both Jedi, but Atharca had powers neither of them could even fathom, and he was by no means playing fair.

Atharca continually fired at the two Jedi, forcing them to deflect the bolts with their lightsabers, but at the same time he could send waves of energy at them that knocked them aside like a physical blow. Invisible ropes tripped them up when they moved and blackness would suddenly obscure their vision at crucial moments. Occasionally, the floor itself would suddenly yawn open beneath their feet, or a great wave of metal would hurl itself upon them, trying to smother them under scalding durasteel. As they frantically deflected, retreating all the while and battling to remain alive, Atharca simply laughed contemptuously, clearly enjoying their struggle.

Danielle was deflecting a sudden barrage of shots from a group of nearby wraiths when she caught a blur of scarlet from the corner of her eye. She turned and flung her lightsaber up just in time to block Laura's initial strike, her muscles straining as she pushed Laura away from her.

"Laura!" Danielle gasped, barely remembering to lift her blade and parry Laura's next flurry of blows. "What are you doing?"

"Danielle, look out!" Annie screamed from where she was once again neatly lashed up on the table. "She's gone mad again! Palpatine's ordered her to kill you!"

"Don't kill her!" Atharca screamed, enraged. "I need all of you alive for the ritual to succeed!" But Laura answered only to Palpatine, and she continued to strike mercilessly at Danielle, oblivious to Atharca's command along with Danielle's cries.

"Laura, please!" Danielle yelled above the din of the fight, even as she parried lunge after lunge. "Remember who you are. Don't do this!"

Laura's eyes remained eerily blank, her expression coldly determined, and her fencing skills were undiminished. If anything, they had improved, for Laura was following Palpatine's instructions exactly: this time, she intended to kill Danielle, and she showed no mercy.

Knowing that Laura was not holding back, Danielle fought back just as ruthlessly, calling desperately on all the skills she possessed to fend off her friend. The wraiths drew away from them whenever the two combatants came near, and so Laura and Danielle swirled across the floor, lightsabers crackling when they connected and painting vivid streaks of color through the air.

Wes had time only to spare a single worried glance at Danielle, for he was still busy distracting Atharca, who was now closing in on the single Jedi. Across the room, Dru finished off the last of the nearby wraiths and saw Krista trying to make her way stealthily into the pit to free Annie. Palpatine, however, saw her as well, and with a well-placed shock of dark force energy he sent Maul sprawling to the ground, hissing in agony. Palpatine moved swiftly around the pit to intercept Krista--only to leap back in alarm as Dru was suddenly between him and his prey, firing point-blank at his face.

Palpatine drew himself away with a snarl, black robes fluttering around him like crows' wings, and the shot slid past him and into the distance. Dru raised her blaster again, but Palpatine knocked it aside with a snarl, and Dru dove after it only for it to skid away from her grasp. She rolled to her feet, somersaulting to dodge a swift blast of dark energy. Standing, she skipped backward and, with an expression of extreme distaste, reached down and helped Maul to his feet. As he continued to hiss with pain, Dru called a gun to her hand from a nearby fallen wraith, and together they faced the enraged Sith.

Behind them, Krista took advantage of their distraction to head into the pit again, only to stop and battle a nearby wraith with, of all things, a piece of pipe it had picked up somewhere. As she struggled to shoot it, Annie yelled from within the pit, "It would be REALLY GREAT if someone could untie me right now!"

"I'm working on it!" Krista shouted back, harassed.

On the far side of the room, crimson and azure blades met with a crackle of energy, and for a brief moment Laura and Danielle locked eyes over their crossed lightsabers. Then, with an almost contemptuous movement, Laura shoved, sending Danielle sprawling. She barely regained her feet in time as Laura came at her with a sweeping stroke, black tunics swirling around her, her expression still coldly merciless.

Before, they had been well-matched, both strength and skill approximately equal. Now, with Laura no longer trying to rein in the Sithly half of her nature, Danielle found herself facing an opponent more ruthless, experienced, and skilled than herself, and she struggled anew to block each of Laura's unending attacks.

All too soon, Laura found a weakness, discovering a parry of Danielle's she had always had difficulty with. Mercilessly, Laura lunged again and again for that spot, until Danielle faltered, engaging Laura's blade poorly. With a swift jerk of her wrist, Laura disarmed Danielle. As Danielle reached out a hand to call her blade back, Laura kicked her hard directly in the abdomen, knocking all the breath from Danielle's body and knocking her on her back. With a gesture of her hand, Laura sent Danielle's lightsaber flying, then stepped until she stood towering over Danielle, gazing down at her with that same terrifying emptiness.

As Danielle stared up at her, she seemed to gaze not at her friend of so many years, but instead at the nameless Sith that controlled her body. Summoning every ounce of her Jedi skills to her, Danielle reached out for her friend's spirit, trying to find Laura locked somewhere inside her own form. "Laura," she said, desperately, packing that single word with an overwhelming amount of persuasion. "Laura, _please_. I know you're still in there, I know you can hear me. Don't do this! Fight, Laura, I know you can fight it! Please!"

And, amazingly, Laura hesitated, and it seemed for a moment that emotion crept onto her horrifically slack features, a hit of recognition entered her hazel eyes. Her lightsaber twitched forward, humming, as though she meant to strike Danielle, and Danielle winced away. But no sooner had it moved than Laura drew her hand back, her brow furrowed in concentration, sweat breaking out suddenly on her brow. She stood stock-still, eyes still locked on Danielle, and she seemed to be trembling all over.

Danielle knew that this was the crucial moment--Laura was fighting her Master's command, so difficult for a Sith apprentice to obey, as well as the urgings of Dark Side that flowed through her. Afraid to move lest she break Laura's concentration, she instead whispered, "I know you can do it, Laura. You have to!"

Abruptly, Laura's eyes cleared, the slackness receding and her entire body relaxing. For the span of a heartbeat, she looked at Danielle with horrified recognition, then started to extend a hand to help her friend up. Just as Danielle breathed a sigh of relief, a tremor shook through Laura, freezing her again, followed by another, even harder.

Impossibly, walls suddenly slammed down behind Laura's eyes once more, and her face went slack, brutal. The call of Master and Dark Side had proven too strong. The battle was over, and Laura was lost once more.

Danielle cringed back but could not look away as Laura raised her crimson lightsaber high overhead, grimly purposeful. Without ado, she struck downward viciously, and Danielle closed her eyes, making her peace with the Force--

--but the blow never landed.

After only a millisecond Danielle's eyes flew open again, and she stared upward dumbly at the crackling blur of color overhead. There was Laura's scarlet blade, less than a foot from Danielle's flesh, ready to cleave her in two--but perpendicular to it was a blade of brilliant azure, effortlessly holding Laura at bay.

Danielle's breath caught in her chest, and she barely dared to breathe as Laura, even in her Sithly form, was momentarily frozen in shock. Danielle finally managed to pry her eyes away from death hovering so near to her unprotected skin to look at her savior--and when she did, shock and joy coursed through her.

"_Obi-Wan!_"

Still keeping Laura's blade at bay, Obi-Wan spared a glance for Danielle, shooting her a roguish grin. Then, with equal ease, he lifted his blade sharply, knocking Laura away. Before she could recover his blade flashed as he swirled inside her guard, knocking her lightsaber from her hand and slamming his hilt onto her head. Soundlessly, Laura crumpled, her disengaged lightsaber rolling away from her limp form.

"Obi-Wan!" Danielle sobbed again, unable to believe her eyes. "My God, you came, you came! Oh, thank God, I thought--but you came!"

"And," a voice said from behind her, "he did not come alone."

Danielle whirled, looking over her shoulder, and felt her heart leap within her chest. "Qui-Gon!"

Reaching down, he pulled her to her feet, then grasped her in a bone-crushing hug as Obi-Wan covered them. "Danielle, I'm sorry," he said raggedly. "I am so terribly sorry. Can you ever forgive me--us?"

Danielle smiled through her tears and wrapped her arms around the huge Jedi Master's neck, allowing herself a brief moment to wallow in his embrace. "Of course, I forgive you. You never even had to ask. But . . . but what . . . ?"

Obi-Wan, deflecting shots now, rolled an eye back at them. Qui-Gon smiled at him sheepishly, then turned back to Danielle. "Obi-Wan, who is a horrendously disobedient padawan, completely ignored my orders and read through the information you gave us--and found that it was exactly what you claimed: a record of transactions between Palpatine and this Atharca person that incriminated both of them in an incredible conspiracy.

"This convinced me enough to search our rooms for the bug you mentioned. When we found it, I knew you had not been lying, and that I had just made the most terrible mistake of my life. So, we informed the Council of what we were doing, and Obi-Wan and I took off after you."

"But how did you find us?"

"The location of this building was in your stolen information, which we have now turned in to the Council. When we found Palpatine's estate deserted, we came here." Qui-Gon gazed across the melee, and his face darkened. "And it seems we have arrived just in time. Danielle, I thought you said your friend Laura was not in league with the Sith, not truly."

"She isn't," Danielle said, looking at her still motionless friend in concern. "Palpatine is controlling her with the Force. She has trouble with that sometimes. But thanks to you," she looked at him with sparkling eyes, "I'm all right."

From behind her, Danielle heard Obi-Wan say gruffly, "You defend for a while, Master," and then suddenly Danielle was swept into a new embrace, one which she returned with equal fierceness. Obi-Wan was not as tall as Qui-Gon, but he picked her up off her feet with total effortlessness and swung her in a graceful circle as she laughed in delight.

"You're all right," he said, sounding infinitely relieved. "Danielle, I continue to come so close to losing you. I'll never let anything happen to you, I swear it."

"The same to you," Danielle replied, giving his padawan braid a playful tug. "But I think it's time we started helping the others now," she added, pointing out to where the others still struggled.

"Of course," Qui-Gon said. "Danielle, we brought something for you, since we thought this might happen." With a smile, he pulled free a lightsaber, and extended it to you. "Perhaps you might give that blade to Knight Parsival, for I believe she has need of it."

Danielle nodded, calling Dru's lightsaber to hand. "Dru!" she yelled. As the other Jedi turned from fighting Palpatine, looking harassed, Danielle cried, "Catch!" and flung the lightsaber to her. Now looking exceedingly relieved, Dru raised a hand and called her blade to her, igniting it swiftly and lunging back into the fight with Palpatine.

Danielle engaged her own lightsaber and pointed to where Wes was desperately trying to hold off Atharca by himself. "Now," she said, "we have to--"

The sudden _snap-hiss_ of a lightsaber igniting behind her was the only warning, and she didn't actually turn in time to defend herself. Once again, Obi-Wan's azure lightsaber was the only thing that kept Danielle from meeting a swift death as he parried Laura's sudden blow.

As Laura, clearly recovered from Obi-Wan's hit to her head, drew back, he and Qui-Gon inserted themselves between Laura and Danielle. Laura glanced behind them to Danielle, her eyes glinting, then raised her lightsaber to the two Jedi. Cocking her head, she made a come-hither gesture, then backed away, clearly expecting them to follow.

"Don't hurt her!" Danielle screamed as the two Jedi prepared to fight her friend. "She's not herself! We can heal her, help her!"

They both nodded in her direction, but then Laura moved in a blinding flash of crimson light, and the two Jedi were forced to take the offensive, falling easily into a practiced routine of one defending while the other attacked, as fluid and graceful as water.

Laura was terribly outmatched and would have soon been disarmed and defeated once more had not Darth Maul, still fighting Palpatine with Dru on the far side of the room, glanced over and seen his friend and fellow apprentice facing two Jedi. With a bestial snarl of rage, he pulled himself away from Palpatine and sprinted across the floor to her side, his fierce loyalty to his friend overpowering his need to defeat his hated Master.

Maul threw himself into the fray at Laura's side, his crimson lightsaber crackling as he caught Obi-Wan's lunge, and the two Jedi pulled back in horror at facing another angry and incredibly powerful Sith. Realizing what was happening, Danielle screamed, "NO! DON'T! You're on the same side! Stop it!" But, heedless of her desperate cries, Laura accepted Maul's help with that same unblinking efficiency, and together they fought as one, striking mercilessly at the horrified Jedi.

"No!" Danielle screamed again, desperately, but in a horrific tangle the four blades, two crimson against two of azure and emerald, met in a snarl of hissing and crackling. Laura, apparently angry with him for thwarting her attack on both times, focused her attack on Obi-Wan, attacking in a flurry of furious blows that he met with grim determination. Following her lead, Darth Maul turned and began leading Qui-Gon away, entering into a separate battle with the elder Jedi Master.

With Laura keeping Obi-Wan very busy, Qui-Gon was now facing Darth Maul alone. Maul might be their ally at the moment, but he was still a full-blooded Sith, and he saw in the Jedi only a lifelong enemy. While Qui-Gon met him with unfaltering patience and effortless skill, Danielle knew, from repeated watchings of _The Phantom Menace_, that if this battle continued, Qui-Gon was doomed.

If she could not separate them, Qui-Gon was going to be killed in a short amount of time; and, if Obi-Wan were not careful, Laura might be killed, too.

For a moment Danielle stood frozen with horror, unsure what to do, whom to aid. Then cold certainty overwhelmed her. If she killed Palpatine, Laura would be free of his command, and she would stop fighting Obi-Wan. Maul would listen to Laura and let Qui-Gon be. Palpatine was the key.

Forcing down the fear that was like bile in her throat, Danielle cast one last desperate glance at the two horrific duels then sprinted across the room to where Dru desperately held her own against the Sith Master.

Krista, meanwhile, had finally made her way in the pit to Annie's side, and she scrabbled furiously with the leather bindings keeping her friend trapped. Finally, saying to hell with it, she pulled out her blaster and simply shot the leather straps away, freeing Annie's hands first and ankles second.

Free at last, Annie sprang to her feet, then quickly stretched with a moan of relief. Grabbing a fallen blaster from nearby, she and Krista exchanged grim nods, then sprinted up the brief stairs together.

Back on the main floor, they stopped aghast at the chaos that met their eyes. To their right, Danielle and an exhausted Dru continued to fight Palpatine, making little progress in defeating the Sith Lord. To their left, they stared in horror as Laura and Obi-Wan swirled across the floor, blades flashing furiously, and further down Maul and Qui-Gon were also fiercely entangled.

"When did Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon get here?" Annie asked, confused.

"I don't know, but it's all wrong!" Krista moaned. "Darth Maul's going to kill Qui-Gon! And why is Laura fighting _Obi-Wan_?"

"I don't know," Annie said, "but--_Wes, look out!_"

In front of them, Wes, fought nearly to the last of his strength, suddenly stumbled, losing his balance. Atharca, clearly meaning to seize an opportunity, reached out a clawed hand--

Both girls acted simultaneously. Annie, raising her gun, fired, the shot arrowing in to strike Atharca directly in the chest. He could not defend against it, however, for Krista, in her wrath, somehow summoned the energy for another terrific blast, sending Atharca to slam into the wall nearly five meters behind him, shocked.

Instead of killing him, as it had done to the Del Majeecans, the blast seemed merely to enrage Atharca, and he regained his feet with an expression of utter hatred. As Annie and Krista rushed to Wes's side, encouraging him, Atharca raised both hands. The two girls screamed and Wes cried out as the floor suddenly shook under their feet, nearly tumbling them to the ground.

"Look out!" Annie screamed with a flash of precognition, gesturing for Krista to duck and tackling Wes to the ground. Over their heads, a wall of fire suddenly seared their air, scorching the edges of their tunics.

As Annie pulled Wes to his feet, the Jedi giving her a smile of utmost gratitude, Krista raised her blaster and aimed it at Atharca. Before she could depress the trigger, however, Atharca gestured sharply, and Krista screamed as she was pulled into the air, dropping her blaster in sheer surprise.

With another vicious gesture, Atharca flung the still-airborne Krista into the pit, and the sound of her head colliding with the sacrifice table was audible even across the room. Clearly unconscious, she slid down the table to lie still as death at its feet, a small trickle of blood coming from where her head had hit the table's corner.

"No!" Annie cried out; but, before she could move, a wave of precognition more powerful than any she had ever experienced washed over her, doubling her over with agony. When she finally straightened, her head throbbed, and her nose had started bleeding, but a strange energy coursed through her.

While she had been experiencing her vision, Wes had rallied himself, taking advantage of Atharca's distraction to lunge, intending to run the old man through with his lightsaber. Atharca, however, was ready for him, and batted the Jedi aside like a fly. He landed at Annie's feet just as she straightened.

Annie seemed to move in a dream. Moving even before Atharca began the gesture, she dodged the psychic blow that would have pounded her and Wes into the metal floor. Rolling to her feet again, she rolled forward to evade another lightning-fast blow, then came up with her gun pointed directly in Atharca's face. Point-blank, no more than two feet away, she fired, while Atharca was still finishing his motion.

The blaster bolt hit him directly in the face, and Atharca reeled back, screaming. It was a horrible sound, piercing, and nearly everyone staggered and halted what they were doing to cover their ears while it continued. Atharca clawed at his face where the blaster bolt had struck him, and Annie realized in horror that he was ripping away his own flesh. As he flung fragments of skin around him, his body writhed and spasmed uncontrollably, spine contorting and bones stretching.

When he finally ceased, Atharca was no longer the bespectacled little old man of before. Now he was a towering giant of a man, ebony-skinned with eyes of flame. As she still crouched, panting, in front of Wes, Atharca hissed at her in hatred.

"You'll pay for that, you little bitch," he snarled; and, with no warning from Annie's precognition, Atharca leveled his hands at her, and a wave of malevolent black energy spiraled across the floor, striking her fully in the chest. As she screamed, it threw her backward--and into the waiting arms of Wes, who had stood to aid her if he could. Groaning with pain, she slumped within his arms, fighting not to pass out as Wes stroked her hair, murmuring to her soothingly.

Cradling her as gently as he could in one arm, Wes raised his lightsaber with his other arm just in time to catch Atharca's next attack on his lightsaber blade. Face contorted with concentration, Wes deflected a few shots from Atharca's blaster before Annie could stand on her own again. As she staggered away, still dizzy, Wes moved to stand between her and Atharca, lightsaber raised in grim determination and face coldly set.

Then, out of nowhere, Wes staggered suddenly, his face white. Stunned, he raised a hand to his smoking side, then glanced in confusion at Atharca, who had not even raised his blaster. Horrified into silence, Annie whirled to shoot the wraith that had crept up behind them, shooting the Jedi while his back was turned.

Ahead of her, Wes maintained his stance for only a moment before he staggered to his knees, clutching his side in agony. Heedless of any danger to herself, Annie rushed to his side, dropping to her knees as well. Atharca, laughing in sheer delight at this unexpected boon, moved toward them with malevolent intent.

Danielle, still helping Dru fight Palpatine with little success, cried out when she saw Wes sink to his knees. Leaving Dru to fight Palpatine alone, Danielle bolted across the room to where Annie still knelt by Wes, undefended. Raising her own lightsaber, Danielle deflected the fierce volley of shots Atharca aimed at the fallen Jedi, then stepped forward, grimly.

"Give it up, girl," Atharca laughed. "You could not defeat me before, when you had a Jedi to aid you. You could not defeat Palpatine, who is by far my lesser in combat. What do you hope to achieve now?"

Danielle simply raised her lightsaber and met his eyes over the green blade, feeling the Force sing through her. "I won't let you hurt them, Atharca."

"We shall see," he purred in reply; then, with no further warning, he thrust his hands forward, and Danielle threw herself aside barely in time to dodge a blast of dark energy.

Across the room, battle raged everywhere. Annie, crouched over the fallen Wes, was forced to defend herself against two more wraiths, seeking to finish off a wounded foe. Dru was a skilled Jedi, but she was no match for Palpatine, and even as she fought him some of his dark Force lightning snuck past her guard and struck the Jedi, making her cry out in pain. On the other side of the pit where Krista still lay motionless, Qui-Gon and Darth Maul battled fiercely, and Obi-Wan and Laura continued to duel.

Danielle raised her own hand and concentrated, using the Force to barely block a huge metal girder that Atharca had flung at her. Casting it aside, she wearily raised her lightsaber again as, with an evil smile, Atharca spread his hands, flames crackling at his fingertips. Eyes dancing with delight, Atharca gathered his hands together to form a ball of flame in front of him. Danielle merely braced herself, not knowing what she could do against such a threat.

It was impossible to say who was more shocked when a gargantuan roar split the air. Atharca barely had time to turn before Sweetums was upon him, the force of his leap knocking Atharca to the floor and his massive jaws at Atharca's throat. With a yipping howl, he bent to sink his teeth into Atharca's flesh, but the howl turned into a yowl of pain as Atharca somehow flung the great beast from him. Sweetums struck the wall so hard that Danielle could hear the snap as several of his bones shattered, and Atharca continued to pump streams of black energy into him.

Sweetums gave a feeble twitch, turning so his many eyes could gaze on his beloved Danielle. He gave one last faint, mournful yip . . . then fell motionless, his eyes dimming forever.

"No," Danielle whispered, voice choked with horror. "No . . . Sweetums!"

Grinning, Atharca turned to face her--and found himself confronted with a cold hatred like none he had ever seen before.

Rage pounding through her veins and making it difficult for her to see straight, Danielle threw herself at Atharca, unable to think of anything but killing the monster before her. Her lightsaber screamed in her hands as she wielded it with deadly expertise, effortlessly deflecting Atharca's shots even as she dodged his blasts of energy. A deadly blur of focused hatred, Danielle moved closer and closer to Atharca, closing in.

At last, Atharca desperately summoned another wave of flame and flung it at Danielle. Instead of dodging to one side, she threw herself forward to that it scorched overhead, and she came to her feet a handsbreadth from Atharca. Before he could recover from his shock, Danielle lifted her lightsaber--and shoved it hilt-deep into his gut.

Atharca choked, his skin rippling, and a faint trickle of blood came from his mouth. For a brief moment as Danielle held her lightsaber, motionless, she thought she had killed him--then, with a scream of rage, Atharca shoved her away, knocking her lightsaber from her hand. With one hand he sent it to fling itself against the wall, where it shattered; with the other, he bent down and picked Danielle up by the throat. As she kicked and squirmed, clawing desperately at his hand, he brought her close enough to whisper in her ear, "And for that, my little Jedi, you die."

As Danielle stared, horrified, Atharca opened his mouth, his jaw dropping--and it kept dropping, sagging until his mouth stretched nearly a foot long, teeth and jaws elongating horribly. With a terrible wheezing noise, he _sucked_ inward--and Danielle started to scream.

A bright haze appeared around Danielle, and as Atharca's jaw continued to sink impossibly lower, the strange light began to stream out of her, spiraling into Atharca's open mouth. As Danielle struggled ever more weakly, her soul drained from her own flesh and into Atharca's yawning maw. At last, she fell motionless within his grasp, and still Atharca continued to drink of her essence.

A shot pierced the air, sending Atharca staggering, and in his shock he dropped Danielle. Annie, again with pinpoint accuracy, had seen what was happening and desperately tried to stop him; but the shot merely wounded Atharca, and once he had recovered he laughed richly. It was too late; on the floor, Danielle lay like a discarded rag doll, her skin as pale as porcelain and her lips tinted blue. Her eyes, wide open still, were glazed, and horribly drained of color.

"Danielle!" Annie screamed, then to Atharca, "You _bastard_!"

Across the room, another scream echoed Annie's own, and she turned to see Laura suddenly stagger to a stop. Obi-Wan barely managed to a divert a blow that, with her guard lowered, would have bisected Laura as she stared blankly at her fallen friend.

Still slack-featured and expressionless, Laura whispered, with little recognition, "Danielle." Then, her eyes beginning to clear, she whispered again, "Danielle!" and sank to her knees, retching. As Obi-Wan stared in amazement, she knelt a moment, gasping for air, then staggered dizzily to her feet, her eyes clear once more. "What--where--?"

Her roaming eyes settled on Danielle, and once more she saw what had broken her free of Palpatine's trance: Danielle, motionless at Atharca's feet. Hatred etching ugly lines in her face, Laura hissed, "Atharca . . ." then whirled to face the others.

"Maul! Qui-Gon! Stop!" she ordered, and amazingly they did. "You are allies, both of you. Maul, do not harm these Jedi, they're our friends. Qui-Gon, this man is a Sith but he is our ally. Put your differences aside. I need all of you to cover me," her eyes gleamed, "while I kill Atharca."

Without even waiting for confirmation, Laura snapped her crimson blade back to her hand and sprinted across the room, aiming straight for the still-laughing Atharca. Just as she reached him, however, Dru suddenly screamed. Palpatine, tiring of toying with her, had drawn a knife from within his robes and slashed at her viciously, opening a long cut from her ribs to her hip.

As Dru collapsed, bleeding profusely, Palpatine gave her a last contemptuous kick and turned. "My Apprentice," he called sharply, stopping Laura mid-stride. As she turned to look at him, he smiled, spreading his hands. "It is time we finished things between us, you and I."

Laura hesitated a moment, shooting a glance of longing hatred at Atharca, then turned to face her Master. "Maul, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, you take care of Atharca," she called across the room, striding slowly toward the Sith. "Palpatine is mine."

Of these, only Maul obeyed her instructions, running to confront Atharca. Qui-Gon rushed to Danielle's side, cradling her in his strong arms and weeping as he murmured apologies and cradled the young woman to him. When a wraith drew nearby, he rose and destroyed it with a single sweep of his lightsaber. Obi-Wan joined Laura, standing at her side as they faced Palpatine together.

Annie finished the bandage she was dressing Wes's side with and tied it firmly. Patting it to make sure it would stay in place, she rose, helping Wes to his feet as well as he hissed in pain. As he raised his lightsaber wearily, Annie fired her blaster at a nearby wraith, only to realize in horror it was out of charge. When Annie dove for a new one, Wes, more exhausted now than ever, moved to defend her.

Annie glanced over her shoulder and saw Maul and Qui-Gon facing Atharca, and pointed. "Help them," she told Wes. "I'm going to go see if I can help Krista."

Reluctantly, the wounded Jedi agreed, sparing a horrified glance at the fallen Dru as he moved to aid the others. Annie sprinted across the room and jumped the stairs into the pit, rushing to Krista's side where she tried, to no avail, to rouse her friend.

Laura and Obi-Wan merely waited as Palpatine watched them, yellowing eyes gleaming with delight. "Ah, now this is a moment to be treasured," he purred, smiling broadly. "My Apprentice intends to complete her journey to the Dark Side by rising up and slaying her Master, and a promising young Jedi may corrupt himself as well attempting to aid her."

"You are wrong on both counts," Obi-Wan shot back. "This young woman is free of your control, and you will never turn me to the Dark Side."

Palpatine raised an amused eyebrow. "Is that so, young Jedi? Well, we will see." And, almost negligently, he raised his hands, sending a blast of blue-black lightning at Obi-Wan. With uncharacteristic skill, however, Obi-Wan merely straightened his blade, catching all of the Dark Force energy on it.

When his attack on Obi-Wan proved fruitless, Palpatine turned to Laura, who raised her own lightsaber warily. "Free of my command, now, are you?" he asked tauntingly. "Hmm. Apprentice, hear me and obey! I demand your service!"

Laura went rigid, fighting the command, as Obi-Wan backed away from her in sudden wariness. For a moment Laura stood motionless; then, eyes blazing, she seemed to shrug the command aside. "No, Palpatine," she hissed. "I obey you no longer."

Rage burning in his eyes, Palpatine attacked without warning, sending blasts of Dark energy at both of them. Obi-Wan caught it on his blade again as Laura jumped aside, but he followed this attack with a psychic shove that sent Obi-Wan sprawling. As Laura leapt to defend him, Palpatine thundered, "Apprentice, hear and obey!"

With a gasp, Laura clapped her hands to her ears, trying to block out the words. As Obi-Wan leapt to his feet, Palpatine made another gesture, and suddenly Laura was clutching at her throat, writhing and gurgling as an invisible hand crushed her windpipe.

"No," Obi-Wan said, staring at the struggling girl. "What are you doing to her? Leave her alone!" When Palpatine ignored him, focused on killing Laura, Obi-Wan suddenly lunged, his lightsaber scoring the old Sith's arm. Palpatine screamed in hatred and pain, releasing Laura to fall to the floor, clutching her throat and wheezing. Dancing back, Obi-Wan glared defiance. "Fight me instead, if you can."

Eyeing him distastefully, Palpatine's lips suddenly curved into a wicked smile. "You know, my young Jedi, I don't think I shall kill you after all. You will make a fine replacement for my apprentice if I must kill her." He glanced sweetly at the rigid Jedi. "Now, brace yourself; this might hurt a little."

Ruthlessly, he extended both hands, and this time the dark lightning snaked around Obi-Wan's lightsaber to sink into the young man's flesh. As he screamed in pain, the force of the blow throwing him backward, Palpatine swatted his lightsaber from his hand, stepping forward. On the floor, Obi-Wan tried desperately to escape the awful pain but could not, his spine arching of its own volition. His limbs, filled with the horrific energy, flailed and thrashed under the unending assault, and he could not stop the unending screams from pouring out of his raw throat.

Suddenly it stopped, and he managed to crack his eye open long enough to see Laura standing between him and Palpatine, her expression torn between hatred and terror.

"Do not toy with me, child," Palpatine said, his voice cold. "I am done with games. If you stand between me and my prey, I will kill you."

Laura stood motionless, then simply raised her lightsaber and saluted him faintly. "By all means, Palpatine, destroy me."

"So be it," he said, sounding almost sorrowful; with a leisurely gesture, he sent forth the dark lightning once more.

This time it was torrential, streaming forth so that even though Laura caught some of it on her blade, more swept around the sear her flesh. This was not lightning meant to agonize or knock unconscious; Palpatine meant to kill her, and as swiftly as possible.

Impossibly, though, Laura did not fall; her booted feet braced against the hard metal floor, she was not knocked backward. Her faced contorted with agony, she instead focused--and took a single, incredibly painful step _forward_, toward the Sith Lord.

Still the assault continued, the lightning dancing over her and soaking into her flesh, and still Laura took another step forward, feet braced and lightsaber upheld. Palpatine's face held a faint trace of doubt now, but he did not lessen his assault; to the contrary, he strengthened it, leaning forward and baring his teeth as he put as much malevolent energy into his attack as he could.

Still Laura came forward, like an automaton, refusing to fall unconscious or submit to the incredible agony of the Sith's torture. Soon, she drew near enough that Palpatine took a hesitating step backward, wrath and confusion on his face.

"No!" he screamed. "No, it is impossible! You should be dead!"

Laura took one final step toward him, so close now that the black energy cocooned her, reaching in to skitter along her very bones. "Then I'll see you in hell," she said, and thrust her lightsaber forward, plunging it into Palpatine's heart.

Unlike Atharca, Palpatine was mortal, and he screamed as Laura dealt him his death blow. For a horrible heartbeat, the dark energy assault continued; then Laura ripped her lightsaber upward, and with a shattering scream the Sith exploded into a wave of violet light, his very flesh incinerated in the release of the sheer evil it had contained for so long. In the shimmering waves of purple light, it was almost impossible to see the smaller black figure beside it crumple forward to lie motionless atop his empty robes, crimson lightsaber tumbling from a nerveless hand.

On the other side of the room, Maul staggered a step in shock, staring in disbelief at the blackened floor where his Master had once lain. Qui-Gon and Wes, not certain what had transpired, both hesitated . . . but Atharca made a low noise of disbelief. As he froze, all around the room the wraiths under his command froze as well, stricken with their master's shock.

"No," Atharca said, voice rough. "No, this cannot be! The Sith is slain? Impossible!" Backing away from the Jedi facing him, he screamed at them, "It's _impossible_!"

Suddenly, he emitted a bestial roar, spreading his arms wide. From him issued a blast of power so immense none of his opponents could dodge it; Maul, Qui-Gon, and Wes all went sprawling, clearing the way to the pit. Atharca sprinted past them and leapt down the steps to where Annie was still at Krista's side. Annie rose and drew her blaster, but Atharca backhanded her, knocking her aside. With a rough motion, he picked the still limp Krista up and slammed her atop the sacrificial table. "This farce ends, now!"

Picking up one of the sacrificial knives and holding it aloft, he turned to face the room and his assembled enemies, his face black with rage. "All your efforts have been in vain," he snarled, the humanity slowly draining from his face to reveal a skeletal and altogether horrible countenance underneath. "I have tired of your petty efforts to stop the inevitable. I will kill you all one by one, starting with this girl, and when I have finished, this galaxy and hers will be mine to rule!"

Frothing at the mouth now, he snarled at the Jedi and their allies as they stared back at him in horror. At his feet, flames began to lick up his robes, spreading around him; overhead, the air began to swirl as though stirred by fierce wind, even though they were indoors. As Atharca began to speak, clearly starting the ritual, Qui-Gon, Annie, and Wes rushed forward, knowing they must stop him. The flames from his cloak, however, suddenly rippled out from him, surrounding the sacrificial pit in a wall of white fire, stopping them in their tracks.

Still speaking words in a language none of them recognized, Atharca opened his free hand, and the air above his head darkened, turning into a deep blue-violet maelstrom of power. His raised knife gleaming with its own inner power, Atharca laughed, madness and triumph in the inhuman sound. "And now," he said, grinning, "I shall smite the unworthy, and plunge them into Hell--"

Atharca stopped so suddenly that it took the defenders a moment to realize what had happened. Slowly, his eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth continued to move, emitting a strange croaking noise. "No," he rasped, shocked. Around him, the maelstrom curled within itself and vanished, and the ring of flames surrounding the pit shrank, dimmed. "What--?"

As the onlookers stared, a trickle of blood suddenly dripped from his mouth, rolling down his chin. Dropping the knife, Atharca raised his hands to his face--then his jaw dropped and he emitted a scream that shattered the glass windows of the doors and scorched the metal floor around him. Writhing in agony, his face suddenly shifted to a young woman's, another man's, an alien's. Too quickly to see, the changes continued, his face and flesh whirling through transformations as he arched in agony.

All around the room, the wraiths suddenly echoed his scream, those that still lived crumpling to their knees and writhing themselves. As Atharca continued to scream, white light suddenly seemed to erupt from within him, seeping out of his flesh and escaping in a thousand directions. When the last of the light was gone, Atharca's face and form suddenly snapped into a grotesque alien facade, the swift transformations finally ceasing.

His back arched like a bow, Atharca's scream died out with a long, shuddering gasp . . . and he slumped forward, falling to lie face-down on the scorched metal floor in front of him.

Everyone in the room stared dumbly at the knife protruding from his back, the runes etched into its surface making it the twin of the one that lay dropped at his side. Behind him, Krista's eyes were frozen wide in shock and fear, and one of her hands was still extended to deliver the fatal blow.

Before anyone could even react, all over the room the wraiths made a sudden hissing sigh, like a noise of release. The dead wraiths shifted, suddenly assuming the features that must have been theirs while they lived. The living ones moaned with joy as their own souls and forms were returned to them, and all across the room men and women of all sizes, ages, and species suddenly came to life, clearly weak and disoriented from their long incarceration within the evil Atharca. No sooner had they been restored to their true selves, however, than they all collapsed, lapsing into a deep healing slumber.

Then, into the silence, they heard a familiar yipping howl . . . and a soft cough as Danielle sucked in her first breath. Putting a hand to her head dizzily, she gazed around her with wide brown eyes. "Wh-what . . . ?"

Qui-Gon dove for Danielle as Annie scrambled down into the pit, throwing her arms around Krista. "You did it," Annie sobbed, holding her smaller friend tightly against her, heedless of her injured side. "Krista, you killed him! His own dagger killed him! It's over, thank God it's over!"

Krista, for one of the few times in her life, could think of nothing to say; she simply pressed her face into Annie's shoulder and shuddered her relief, breath coming in hitching sobs.

Qui-Gon pulled Danielle into his arms; she was very bruised and confused but seemingly none the worse for having her soul temporarily removed. Wes, oblivious to his own wound, threw himself to Dru's side, his hands working swiftly to bind the gash on her chest and staunch the bleeding. Maul, without a mark upon him, remained aloofly at the edge of the group, eyeing the Jedi and the newly recovered wraiths with apparent mistrust.

When Krista recovered, Annie helped her off the table, then together they dodged Atharca's corpse and sprinted from the pit. Qui-Gon released Danielle just in time for the two girls to throw their arms around her. "Danielle, you're all right!" Annie wept, as Danielle said, "Krista, you--how--?"

Wes, carrying with difficulty the still-unconscious Dru, joined the huddle, depositing his precious burden carefully on the ground. He clutched his own hurt side as Maul joined them. "Dru is severely wounded, as am I," Wes said through clenched teeth. "We must get to a healer immediately."

"But . . . but . . . everyone else is all right." Danielle looked around her dizzily even as Qui-Gon gathered her into his arms again. "What _happened_?"

"Krista killed Atharca," Annie explained. "Palpatine--"

Even as she spoke the terrible words, everyone fell silent, realizing the same thing simultaneously. Everyone, that is, except Danielle. Frowning, she asked, "Guys, where's Laura?"

Krista made a sudden strangled noise, and everyone turned to follow her pointing finger. On the opposite side of the pit, in the shadows of the room, a huge scorched circle ringed an empty pool of black robes, from which emitted a noxious smoke. Emerging from the shadows was Obi-Wan, his clothing singed from that same evil blast, his face drained of all color and his blue eyes blazing in his face. Weakened as he was by Palpatine's assault, each step was clearly an effort, but he moved resolutely forward.

Draped in his arms was a figure dressed all in black, completely motionless, dark cloak spilling over his arm and head lolling with each step he took. Like Obi-Wan, her face was white as death, but her eyes were not open.

Laura.

Shocked into silence, the circle parted to let him in, and Obi-Wan ever so gently laid Laura on the metal floor, then drew carefully away. As Darth Maul made a pained noise, Annie, Krista, and Danielle all fell to their knees at her side, speechless with horror.

"Laura," Danielle whispered, not wanting to believe it. Krista began weeping silently, and Annie reached out and took her friend's icy hand in her own.

At this, Laura's eyes slitted open, and she gazed on her friends with surprise. Numb lips barely moving, she whispered, "What happened?"

With Danielle and Krista clearly unable to speak, Annie took it upon herself. "It's over," she said, forcing the words out. "Palpatine and Atharca are dead."

Laura's eyes widened slightly. "Atharca's dead? How?"

"Krista killed him with one of his knives."

Laura grinned weakly at Krista. "All right, Krista."

When Krista couldn't summon a return smile, Annie continued slowly. "All the wraiths are transformed, Danielle's all right . . ." Annie felt her throat closing. "But you . . . Laura . . ."

Laura smiled again, even more faintly. "I've been blasted with Force lightning a few times too many in the past few days," she whispered. "Even Sith can only withstand so much. And when I killed Palpatine . . . the blast . . ." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Obi-Wan was close, too. Is he--?"

"I'm all right," Obi-Wan said soothingly, joining the girls in kneeling at her side. "Thanks to you," he added with unwonted gentleness. It seemed he was at last convinced of her worth, at the end.

"It was truly a heroic thing you did, slaying the Sith," Qui-Gon added unexpectedly. "Never have I seen such courage--and all four of you possess it."

"Thanks for that," Laura said, wry even as she lay dying. "But I killed him . . . and I'm free. At _last_ I'm free of him, forever. And you, Maul," she said, turning to meet the eyes of her fellow apprentice, who stood like one in a dream. "We're free of him and his evil now, always." Her eyes drifted closed, and her voice when she spoke was nearly inaudible. "That is worth any price."

"No," Krista managed at last, reaching out to wrap her arms around her friend's neck, hugging her fiercely. "Laura, please be all right, please . . . We're all safe, we can go home now . . . _please_ be all right . . ."

Laura returned the embrace as best she could, but when Krista released her, she gave a hissed gasp of agony. "I'm afraid," she said haltingly, "that I won't be going home with you."

"No." The word ripped itself from Danielle, forcing her to speak even through the haze of disbelieving agony. To have fought so hard and endured so much, only to lose Laura now, at the last . . . "Laura . . ."

Laura smiled, the expression encompassing all of them in its warmth. "I love you all," she whispered.

Annie clenched Laura's hand so tightly she nearly crushed it; Krista gave a choked sob, putting a hand to her mouth; Danielle looked away, fighting to breathe. All three girls were crying now; around them, the others were motionless with sorrow.

Laura's eyes closed, and did not reopen.

For a moment, no one breathed. Then, someone said, "No no no," and all three girls began to sob, violently. Maul, his alien features twisted into an expression that might be sorrow, turned his face away from his fallen friend, keening deep in his throat. Obi-Wan, stunned, reached out and put a hand on Laura's cheek, fighting his own unexpected grief.

Around them, the other Jedi were silent, acknowledging their sorrow. Then, suddenly, Wes cocked an ear. "Hush," he said suddenly, shocking everyone into silence. "Listen!"

The three girls froze, stilling their tears for a moment. Briefly, they could hear nothing but the echoing emptiness of the motionless room . . .

. . . then, into the stillness, they heard the distinctive _tap, tap, tap_ of a gimmer stick.

Everyone leapt to their feet and stared, slack-jawed, as Yoda stepped over the fallen metal doors that led into the sacrifice chamber, ears swivelling as he surveyed the chaos. "Late am I, it seems," he said, his crackley voice ringing across the room. "Sidetracked by other matters was I. Accept my apologies, you must."

"Master Yoda!" Obi-Wan was the first to find his voice. "What are you doing here?"

Giving the young Jedi a look of disdain, Yoda continued to make his way across the floor to the stunned group. "When told was I that Danielle had sought me, I knew in motion the future was," Yoda said enigmatically. "Great evil, Atharca planned. Stop him I knew I must. So here I journeyed, as swiftly as I could, hmm. But too late am I. Already fought and won, the battle is." He regarded the motley group of heroes with obvious pride. "Done well, you have, all of you. Defeated the evil is."

Danielle glanced at Laura, then looked at Yoda. "Our friend . . ." she began, then choked off, unable to finish.

Yoda looked at Laura, motionless on the floor, and frowned mightly. "Hmm. Touched by great darkness, this one has been. Death I sense in her."

"Can you help her?" Krista blurted.

Yoda stood motionless for an agonizing moment, considering, before he smiled. "Help her I can." As everyone collapsed in sudden hope, chattering and moving, he frowned and smacked the nearest legs with his stick. "No help can I be if move you do not!"

Everyone parted respectfully, allowing the ancient and tiny Jedi Master to hobble to Laura's side. Setting aside his stick, he examined her for a moment, muttering, "hrrmm, hrrmm," several times in his concentration. Finally, he extended his hands a few inches above Laura and closed his eyes, focusing.

All the Jedi could feel the incredible tug on the force as Yoda summoned his considerable power into the girl before him. Slowly, as everyone watched, Laura's skin suffused with a faint glow, and color flushed back into her face. Several minutes later, Yoda's eyes opened and he drew his hands back with a satisfied grunt, retrieving his stick.

On the ground, Laura suddenly sucked in a deep breath, her eyes cracking open to squint uncertainly at the many figures towering over her. "What the hell just happened?" she croaked.

Instead of receiving an answer, Laura was crushed as several people flung themselves bodily onto her, laughing and weeping in joy. For a moment she was invisible under a roiling mass of people; then, at last, she managed to stagger to her feet, heartily confused. "Okay, wasn't I just about to die? What's going on?"

Gazing around, Laura suddenly spotted Yoda gazing at her serenely, and without conscious thought she dropped on one knee. "Master Yoda," she said, cringing slightly away from the diminutive Jedi Master. "I . . ."

He gazed on her coolly for several minutes before smiling. "The Dark Side I sense in you and your companion," he said, nodding to Maul, "but uncorrupted your heart is, and full of courage. Welcome back, young Jedi."

Tears sparkling in her eyes, Laura bowed her head, then instantly flung all decorum to the winds to return to madly hugging her friends. As Yoda turned his attentions to the wounded Dru, Wes kneeling to watch, the uninjured now allowed themselves to celebrate fully. Hugs were exchanged all around and tears of joy flowed freely.

Krista, ever the bravest, was the first to fling her arms around a stunned Darth Maul, and he was startled at first and stiff in her grasp, but eventually patted her hesitantly on the back. When she released him to throw herself on Annie once more, Laura turned to him next, clasping the Zabrak's hands fiercely as she smiled at him brilliantly, whispering something he alone could hear. As Danielle threw herself into Qui-Gon's arms again, Annie hugged the startled Obi-Wan, once again taking advantage of his tangible form and laughing openly at his confusion. When Laura turned and threw her arms around Danielle, the two girls exchanging wordless forgiveness and acceptance, Krista decided there was never a better moment to fling herself at Qui-Gon. As he returned her embrace unashamedly, his guard down for a moment, Krista boldly kissed him on the cheek, something she had been wanting to do for a very long time. Instead of being offended, the Jedi Master laughed and returned the favor, flushing Krista's cheeks with delight.

As Yoda pulled away, finished with healing Dru, Annie went to the side of her Jedi friends, clasping the still-weak Dru's hand and then hugging Wes fiercely. As Danielle wrapped her arms around Sweetums' neck and Krista went to join Annie with Wes and Dru, Laura looked with momentary surprise at the friendly hand Qui-Gon extended. After only a second's hesitation she accepted it, and she and the Jedi shook hands firmly, exchanging nods of mutual respect. When Obi-Wan tapped her on the shoulder, she turned and saw his own hand extended, respect, admiration, and apology dancing in his eyes. Grinning, Laura took his hand and shook it firmly, but when the Jedi would have pulled away Laura yanked him in, throwing her arms around him unashamedly and laughing into his embrace. After a moment's shock Obi-Wan clearly decided what the hell and hugged his newfound ally with equal fierceness, picking her up and swinging her around as they laughed together.

Finally, an impatient Yoda tapped his stick fiercely, bringing order to the rowdy crowd. They quieted immediately, but nothing could quench their triumph or their sense of accomplishment, and every face in the circle that gazed at the tiny Jedi was beaming. Annie and Krista stood with Wes and Dru, Annie supporting Wes quite happily and the injured Krista and Dru leaning heavily on each other. Danielle stood at their side, one arm wrapped around Sweetums' furry neck and her other hand in Qui-Gon's. Obi-Wan stood at his Master's side, and somehow once Laura had entered his embrace she hadn't seemed inclined to leave, so she stood quite happily in the circle of his arms, exchanging mischievous grins with Krista. Beside them stood Maul, clearly still uncertain of his status in this group of warriors but welcoming the camaraderie nonetheless.

"Quiet you must be!" Yoda ordered, and everyone obeyed, looking at him eagerly. "Done well, our four otherworldly visitors have," Yoda said shrewdly, his keen glance picking out each of them. "Much explaining have they to do, but wait until another time, it can."

All four of the girls heaved audible sighs of relief, looking gratefully at Yoda.

"Master Yoda, what is happening with the war?" Qui-Gon, ever the practical one, inquired.

At last, Yoda smiled, gazing at them fondly. "Destroyed or converted all the Sith are. Defeated the evil Atharca is. Without their guidance, collapse the resistance will. Weakened already are they."

"What about Naboo?" Krista asked, fear in her voice. "What happened to Amidala?"

Yoda _hrmmmed_ impatiently and tapped his stick. "Defeated the Trade Federation forces, Amidala has. A powerful leader, that young woman is. Crucial to the war, her victory was."

Krista's eyes closed in relief, knowing that her friends and planet were safe. It was Annie who said, "And . . . the war?"

"Victorious our forces have been. Too weak the resistance was. Already fleeing were they when I received Danielle's message."

"What are you saying?" Laura asked, her eyes huge.

Yoda huffed in seeming impatience, but his eyes gleamed with triumph. "Averted this war has been. Peace in the galaxy there is."

For a heartbeat, everyone seemed to hold their collective breath--then melee erupted once more, the shouts and screams of joy echoing across the room.


	21. Victory Celebration and Finale

A/N: Well, it's been a long trip, hasn't it? For everyone who's stuck with it this long, kudos and all that jazz--you must have infinite patience and incredibly good taste. ;) Everyone who has reviewed, ever: you have made my world a better place and kept this story going. Repeat reviewers . . . there are no words for how awesome you are (yes, even the slightly scary guy who threatened anyone who was mean to me with bodily harm--I love you, too). We may be almost done, but we're not through quite yet; stick around for the epilogue. It's worth it.

For the final time, I cannot recommend strongly enough the music of John Williams. This piece is literally set to the music of his throne room celebration from the end of ANH and then the victory celebration at the end of ROTJ. To enhance your listening experience, listen to any of it you can get your hands on.

To those of you who have demanded a sequel (and especially the two who demanded they be the stars), keep your hopes up, and you just might be happy. Everyone else, a poll: sequel? Yes? No?

To my darling girls, for whom I wrote this in the first place, I dedicate this final chapter: you babes rock.

For the last time:

TWENTY-ONE

* * *

A trumpet rang out in the clear morning air, its clarion call echoing alone in the cool dawn light. Soon another joined it, then two more, until a full brass section took up the call, announcing the beginning of the ceremony to all the galaxy.

At the base of the stairs, Krista fidgeted, unhappy to be back in dresses again after so long a respite. The folds of her long Nubian gown flowed around her, the silver and rose silks draping gracefully over her petite form. Long chestnut curls (the Handmaidens had been up to their tricks again) spilled over her bare shoulders, gems sparkling in her tresses and at her throat. It was all very lovely and appropriately formal, and quite uncomfortable to a girl far happier in jeans and a t-shirt.

Next to her, Annie, sensing her discomfort, smiled at her knowingly, causing Krista to smile sheepishly in return. Dressed in a long gown that shimmered the gold of the Tatooine sands, Annie lifted her head, letting the faint morning breeze stir her long unbound hair as the trumpets continued their brassy proclamation. She stood very much at ease in finery that echoed both the dignity of the day and some of the glitz of her old diva outfits, contentment flowing from her with every movement she made.

All along the wide avenue, platform ships had formed an interconnected network that formed a streets leading to the building on which they now stood. This street was lined with masses of people, all of them kept back behind barricades several hundred meters away from the base of the stairs where the Krista and Annie now stood.

The music swelled, announcing the glorious triumph that seemed to sing in the very sunlight that blazed down upon them, catching in the gems at Krista's throat, gleaming back from the marble stairs behind them. The crowd, already murmuring, began to roar now, knowing that the long days of celebration were finally culminating in this last ceremony.

As the music grew louder, a familiar strain made Danielle suddenly prick her ears in surprise, straining to hear better. She wore formal Jedi robes all of black and silver, a shimmering ebony cloak billowing around her in the morning breeze and her tall black boots gleaming in the reflected sunlight. Her lightsaber hung at her hip and her blaster rested in its holster, but they were merely formalities, and had been polished to gleaming brilliance for the day's ceremony. Her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, spilled artfully arranged curls down her back--and from behind her left ear trailed a long, slender braid: an honorary Padawan braid, its strands lovingly woven by Qui-Gon himself.

Seeing Danielle's sudden attention, Laura cocked her head as well, listening, and suddenly a brilliant grin lit her features. Shockingly--marvelously--_impossibly_, it was the introduction to John Williams' own triumphal march which now danced in the air around them, marking their victory on the morning breeze. Catching Danielle's eye, Laura laughed silently, her eyes sparkling with knowledge, and Danielle could only laugh in return.

In a stark and rather ironic counterpoint to Danielle's unrelieved black, the reformed Sith was resplendent in a gown of shimmering white which swept, opalescent and shimmering in the mid-morning sun, to pool on the marble steps at her feet. The gown was gathered beneath the bust in the old Hellene style and fell straight to the floor, its gathered sleeves leaving her arms and much of her shoulders bare. Dressed all in white, silver at her wrists and throat, long hair falling in winding curls down her back, Laura seemed now untouched by the darkness that had shadowed her for so long. At long last she had been restored to the eternally laughing young woman they had once known, her smile seeming now to never leave her face.

After Yoda's proclamation in the sacrifice chamber, they had radioed for transports to pick up all the recovered wraiths and to return themselves to the Temple. They had arrived at a Temple as chaotic with joyous celebration as it had been frantic when they'd left; Yoda's news was true. Already word of the Republic's imminent victory had swept over Coruscant, and triumphant fever gripped the entire planet.

Krista had been personally overjoyed when, a few days later, Amidala and a cadre of battered handmaidens arrived at the Temple, eager to reclaim their missing counterpart. For many days the two groups exchanged tales, and Krista learned of Amidala's escape from the Federation forces and how, by some odd chance, in her escape their ship had landed on a small desert world to purchase supplies and repair parts. While there, Amidala had befriended a young slave boy, and before departing she had freed both him and his mother, bringing them with her to Coruscant.

This worried Krista somewhat--it seemed that nothing could stop Anakin's discovery--but his fall to darkness was no longer inevitable. His mother was freed and with him, Qui-Gon was alive to train him, and Palpatine--his Sithly mentor--was dead. The three most important factors contributing to his fall were now erased. If he still fell, then nothing and no one could have prevented it, and Krista decided that worrying about it wouldn't help.

Annie had spent much of her time with Wes and Dru, both of whom had immediately checked into the healing ward upon their return to the Temple. Wes, with his lesser injury, was soon fully recovered and would suffer no lasting damage. Dru, despite being healed by Yoda himself, had been more severely wounded, and would still take some time to recover. Now she was out of the healing ward and able to travel freely, but she still needed a great deal of rest and couldn't tax herself severely. Still, the trio managed to fill their days easily enough, strengthening the tentative bonds of friendship that had already begun to form.

For several continuous days the Council had interviewed Laura--not all of them were as accepting of her Sithly affiliation as Yoda. When her innocence was finally proved, she too was eventually declared a hero of the war for her actions, and she could devote her time to trying to see that Maul went free as well. The council were even more wary of the Zabrak, for his training had been lifelong and his conversion only recent--the Dark Side was still very much within him, whereas nearly all of Laura's corruption had faded with her Master's untimely death. The council eventually pardoned Maul for his previous actions and granted him temporary clemency; a more thorough investigation and a serious effort to purge the Dark Side from his mind would be undertaken later, but for now he was a free man.

Danielle had spent nearly all her waking time with either her Earth friends or her Jedi. Obi and Qui, unbelievably contrite for their actions, were willing to devote every moment to her--Qui-Gon especially, for he had been her first friend and the first to stop believing her. It had been he who had requested she be given an honorary Padawan braid, and he who wove it with symbolic significance from her dark locks. The pride Danielle had felt in that moment had nearly overwhelmed her, and she'd fallen sobbing in Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's arms, feeling as though she'd finally found her place in the world.

Danielle had seen a great deal of Obi-Wan, of course, but every so often either Annie or Laura--or the both of them working in tandem--managed to seduce him away. Annie was still overjoyed to know the younger version of the ghost who had saved her life repeatedly, and Laura--well, Laura had been doomed from the beginning. The death knell, however, was undoubtedly the night when, in the midst of a discussion about music (instigated, of course, by Krista), Obi-Wan had quite unexpectedly swept Laura into his arms and begun singing _Your Song_, much to the astonishment of the Earthlings and very nearly causing Laura's death. When questioned where he had learned the song, he replied that it was one Danielle had taught him--mysteriously, she'd known it would suit his voice very well.

Explanations seemed to be lost in the glorious rush of reunion and triumph--all the girls knew that, eventually, everyone would be curious about their origins and the nature of Atharca's plan, but for now they had been blissfully delayed. None were looking forward to explaining their arrival and what had preceded it, nor the web of lies they had initially woven, but when the Republic's victory was formally announced and a planet-wide celebration began, no one seemed to care.

Now, here they stood under the brilliant morning sun with the music washing over them, the crowds again fallen silent. Before them were the masses of the galaxy, come to share in this day with them; behind them, those people in all the galaxy who had come to mean so much to them.

The music reached a strain they had been told to listen for, and the four girls exchanged significant glances. Then, as one, they turned and ascended the stairs. Behind them, the crowd forgot itself for a moment and began to roar again, fading when the girls came to the landing before another, briefer set of marble stairs.

Above them, on the huge landing before the great double doors that led into the Jedi temple, stood an interesting assembly of Jedi, royalty, and other personages of great importance, awaiting the four girls who now stood on the platform. For a moment, the music crescendoed, then it fell into a soft hum, like the hush of anticipation that had fallen over the crowd.

Taking a deep breath, Krista gathered her skirts and walked up the shorter flight of stairs to stand before the Queen of Naboo, flanked on both sides by silver and pink-robed handmaidens. Krista inclined her head respectfully to Amidala, and the Queen returned the gesture more deeply. Krista sank into a deep curtsey, bowing her head as her skirts pooled around her.

Resplendent with dignity, the elaborate ruffles of her gown glistening in the morning sun, Amidala nodded serenely to Sache, at her right. Returning the gesture, Sache turned and glided to where Yoda presided over a small table on which lay four gleaming medals. Selecting one, she turned and walked back, presenting it to Amidala with a curtsey of her own. Taking it, Amidala turned and, bowing herself, slipped the velvet ribbon around Krista's neck, letting the gleaming pendant fall to rest on the bodice of Krista's gown.

Krista rose and looked at her Queen then, eyes shimmering with what might have been tears, and at last Amidala allowed herself to smile, showing her affection for her friend and comrade. Reaching forward, she put her hands on Krista's shoulders and kissed her on each cheek, showing her a gesture of respect equal to that of another monarch. Smiling helplessly back, Krista nodded to each of the Handmaidens, then turned and descended two steps, standing proudly upright before her Queen and her people.

As the music lulled on, Annie lifted the shimmering folds of her gown and gracefully ascended the wide stairs. She came to a stop several feet to Krista's left, standing before two Jedi who awaited her at the landing. Taking a moment to look into both of their eyes, Annie also curtseyed graciously, then stood. From her seat in the hoverchair, for her wounds still precluded standing, Dru nodded at Wes, and he turned to retrieve another gleaming medal from Yoda's tray. Returning, he handed it to Dru, and then both of the Jedi bowed deeply to Annie. She lowered her head, her hair falling around her, and Dru leaned forward to place the medal around her neck.

As Annie felt the new weight settle around her neck, she straightened, and stared for a moment at the two Jedi to whom she had grown so close, fighting tears of joy. Dru, saying to hell with formality, leaned forward and caught Annie in a warm embrace, holding the other woman tightly. When she released Annie, Wes stepped forward and also hugged her. Stepping back, he kissed her lightly on the cheek, and Annie unaccountably flushed as Dru laughed brilliantly.

Slowly, Annie turned and descended several steps until she stood before her two Jedi, on the same level as Krista. The two girls' eyes met once more, and both grinned widely, the sun gleaming on the gold of their new medals.

Now Laura ascended the stairs, the sunlight blazing on her pearly gown like a pillar of white fire as she walked with easy grace to the landing. Stopping before a mismatched pair of a Jedi and a Sith, she made them the courtly bow of a Senatorial aid, the movement rippling her white gown. Obi-Wan bowed in turn, their matched movements looking akin to the formalities exchanged between dance partners, and behind him Darth Maul inclined his head deeply. When Obi-Wan straightened, Laura caught his eye and winked audaciously, and he grinned at her in return.

Darth Maul, looking uncomfortable to be in finery and among so many Jedi, retrieved the medal from the tray before the ancient Jedi Master, and made an alien bow to Laura before handing the medal to Obi-Wan. Now Laura sank into a low curtsey at the Jedi's feet, and he placed the medal around her neck, carefully lifting her elaborate curls. When she remained in her deep reverence, Obi-Wan reached out and caught her hand, raising her. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed it, his eyes expressing both his deep gratitude and a hint of mischievous flirtation.

Her smile widening brilliantly again, Laura nodded to Obi-Wan, then turned and with utmost grace descended several stairs to Annie and Krista's level, where she stood waiting, the gauzy layers of her gown blowing in the breeze and her new medal reflecting the sunlight back at the hazy blue sky.

Finally, Danielle turned and walked slowly up the stairs parallel to her companions, her black boots a stark contrast to the gleaming white marble. Even more slowly, she stopped before a tall man, then bowed deeply in the Jedi fashion, her robe billowing around her. Solemnly, he returned the gesture, and the beast at his side yipped loudly. Turning, the Nexu trotted over and, as it had been precariously trained to do, selected the final medal in its teeth. Returning to Qui-Gon's side, he relinquished the medal to the Jedi and gave a great yipping howl of affection, butting Danielle with his head. After she had scratched him for a moment, she sank to her knees, her head bowed formally.

As Obi-Wan walked over to join his Master, Qui-Gon reverently placed the medal around Danielle's neck, and then both Jedi bowed deeply. Danielle, however, did not rise, instead remaining in a position of respect with tears flowing freely down her face. Finally, Qui-Gon stepped forward and raised her chin, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. Taking her hands, he raised her, then Danielle threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the folds of his robe. The Jedi Master simply held her, his own embrace tight, stroking her back affectionately. When she released him, she turned and did the same to Obi-Wan, who held her just as tightly. Murmuring some small joke in her ear that made her laugh brightly through her tears, he smiled at her deeply, then turned her around.

Legs shaking, Danielle descended the stairs to her friends' level, then as one the four girls turned to face the Temple once more.

From his position behind the tray, Yoda slowly stood, then hobbled around to the stairs. As one, the four girls curtseyed deeply, showing the ancient Jedi Master their respect and gratitude. As they rose, Yoda, to everyone's shock, placed both hands on his gimmer stick and bowed deeply in return, acknowledging the four young women whose bravery had saved the galaxy from a terrible fate.

As the music's brassy tempo crescendoed once more, the four turned to face the crowd, standing proud before the galaxy with the signs of their courage gleaming on their breasts. In unison, they bowed--and at long last, the crowd was allowed to give vent to its emotion, screaming and cheering wildly. Hats were thrown, balloons released and confetti poured down as they cheered the various heroes assembled on the steps of the Jedi Temple and celebrated the aversion of war.

Laughing and cheering themselves now, their formal roles finished, the foursome moved to cluster together on the wide stair, embracing each other. Danielle was sobbing all the harder now, and Krista seemed unwontedly solemn, but Laura and Annie couldn't stop laughing. Fingering their medals with pride and declaring their joy to the world, they leapt into each other's arms as the confetti poured down from above. At last, they drew back, the four of them joining hands--and, suddenly, on each of their necks their pendants blazed, the brilliantly colored gems sending forth a stream of light that nearly blinded them.

Startled, they broke apart, but their pendants only blazed all the more brightly, and soon even the crowd, sensing something amiss, fell silent. For a moment no one could even think what to say; then, from atop the stairs, they heard someone cry in astonishment, "Look!"

The crowd atop the stairs slowly parted, and the four young women, exchanging puzzled glances, slowly ascended the stairs once more. Before them was the Jedi Temple, a wall of shining transparisteel at its front reflecting back to them the bright morning sunshine and the riotous celebration behind them. Its only flaw, however, was themselves--instead seeing of their own reflections, each of the four girls stared into the mirror and met the eyes of a total stranger.

A stranger--and yet not.

Krista stared in astonishment at the young woman of approximately her own size with gleaming blonde hair, wearing an exact replica of her Nubian gown and grinning at her broadly. Annie looked blankly at the tall, curvaceous young woman in a scandalously low-cut gown who smiled at the world from mysterious, heavy-lidded eyes. Laura's astonished gaze met that of a dark-haired and dark-featured young woman dressed all in black, her mien composed and a lightsaber hilt at her hip. Danielle was face-to-face with a young woman dressed in the Jedi's beige cloaks and boots, lightsaber at her hip and padawan braid draped over her shoulder.

They were slightly blurred, surreal, the details difficult to make out. Only one detail matched that of the Earthly foursome: around each of their necks lay the pendants corresponding to their counterparts'.

"Impossible," Krista breathed, even as Laura said, "My God--it's--you're--"

In the reflection, the blonde-haired and blue-eyed handmaiden smirked, shooting a superior glance to the other end of the line. "You see, Cherie? I _told_ you they'd do it."

The Jedi bowed, her auburn curls swinging forward over her shoulders as she did. "You are correct, Kristae. I underestimated them severely. They have proven themselves courageous and versatile warriors."

"They've got spunk," Annie's reflection said, full lips curving into an enigmatic smile as she eyed Annie appreciatively. "That'll take anyone a long way."

Laura's Sithly reflection regarded her evenly, then gave a short bow. "You have slain my Master and freed yourself and Maul from his dominion," she acknowledged. "The Dark Side is vanquished. All of this you have done where I could not. You were a worthy receptacle for my power."

"You," Danielle said in astonishment, stepping forward. "You're the ones Laura told us about, the four who Atharca banished to Earth because he knew you'd stop him. The ones who made our pendants."

"Damn straight, honey," the diva replied, smirking. "Catch on quick, don't they?"

"We've come to offer our congratulations," the Jedi, Cherie, said, giving Danielle a warm smile. "You've succeeded far beyond anything we could have imagined. Our lives were not given in vain."

"But--if you're dead, how can you be here now?" Annie asked. "Are you ghosts, like Ob--like some Jedi become, when they die?"

The four reflections exchanged glances. "Not exactly," the Sith said, her tilted eyes still looking at Laura appraisingly. "Atharca altered time, you recall? It was his presence that cemented time into its current course. With him dead, it is as if he never banished us--never existed at all, even. Now that he is gone, we are revived--and it is time to take our places in our galaxy once more."

"We would be there right now," Kristae said, cocking her head to the side, "except . . . someone is already _in_ our places. You."

"Just as we hold your places in your own world," Cherie continued. "Now that you have succeeded in killing Atharca, our two worlds have grown near, almost overlapping--and it's time to return everything to its proper place."

Cold suddenly filled the pit of Danielle's stomach. "No," she said, stumbling back a step in disbelief as she understood what they were saying. "No, you don't mean--"

"I'm afraid the adventure is over," the diva said gently. "It's time to go home, girls." She nodded at something over their shoulders. "Make your farewells."

"What, _now_?" Krista said in disbelief.

"The overlap between our worlds is brief, and exists only for a short time after you have completed the tasks we sent you. If we do not exchange now, you will remain in this galaxy permanently--and we will be lost in nothingness."

From behind them, they heard Obi-Wan's tentative voice. "Danielle? Laura? What's going on?"

Slowly, the four girls turned, and found all those assembled on the stairs staring at them in shock. Some peered in amazement at their altered reflections, but mostly the gazes were affixed to the four travelers.

Seeing the confusion in Obi-Wan's face and the terrible understanding in Qui-Gon's, Danielle lowered her head, grief welling within her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Laura stepped forward and took Darth Maul's gloved hands in her own, whispering something to the gloweringly unhappy Zabrak. Krista took a hesitant step toward Amidala, whose brow was furrowed in bewilderment, and Annie stared at her two Jedi, both their glances forlorn.

"But--" Obi-Wan seemed to speak for them all when he shook his head. "I don't understand. Who are they? What are they talking about? Where are you going?"

Unexpectedly, Danielle glanced at Yoda, and saw the tiny Jedi Master had merely folded his hands in front of him, his expression grieved but unsurprised. "I'm afraid there's something we never really got around to telling you," Laura said, looking regretfully at Obi-Wan now. "You see, we're not--I mean, we're--not . . . from . . . here. We--"

The Sithly figure in the glass cut her off suddenly. "Time runs short," she announced. "We cross now, or never."

"No!" Danielle cried, reaching desperately for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. "No, it's not enough time! We didn't--we can't--"

"Then make your choice," the Jedi said serenely, even as her eyes flashed with obvious emotion. "Leave now--or stay, and banish us to nothingness."

There was a pause, then Laura said with conviction, "That we cannot do. I suppose we must then leave it to you to tell our story and explain all to those we leave behind." She gestured at the confused masses.

The reflections exchanged glances. "We shall," Kristae said warmly. "And, for your sacrifice, we offer you a gift." She lifted both hands, palms up, and smiled at Krista.

"A gift?" Annie asked, still moving slowly toward Wes and Dru.

"We cannot explain now," the Sith said impatiently. "We _must_ trade places, now."

"What do we do?" Krista asked simply, even though tears ran down her cheeks.

"Step forward," Cherie instructed, "put your palms against the glass to match ours . . . and draw us out. We, in turn, will be drawing you into your own world."

"I suppose this is goodbye, then," Danielle said raggedly, stepping away from her Jedi. Wrenching her gaze free, she turned to look in the glass, knowing she would never lay eyes on Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon again.

Tentatively, all four of the girls stepped up to the glass, forcing their eyes away from the reflected expressions of those behind them. Lining up with her counterpart, each young woman raised her hands, pressing them palm-to-palm with her reflection. Slowly, almost instinctively, their fingers curled--and gently fell _through_ the shining glass, twining with warm flesh on the other side.

Hands linked, each girl began to step backward, drawing her reflection out of the mirror. From the flat glass emerged first long arms, shoulders, heads--then from the glass stepped four more young women, now suddenly sharp and defined in the bright sunlight.

For a moment the eight of them stood in a line, fingers still entwined, gazing deeply into each other's eyes, and reality spun around them. The world blurred, at once the stairs of the Temple filled with people, and at the same time the weed-filled meadow by Panera on a hot summer's day. One of them whispered, "_Thank you,_" then their Star Wars partners stepped back, releasing their hands--and reality snapped into place with a blow that knocked all four girls off their feet.

They hit the ground with a _thump_, and suddenly the sun was brilliant overhead, the weeds rising up all around to choke them, and they were back in that field outside Panera in the summer after their senior year, at just about 2:00 in the afternoon.

For at least a minute, no one spoke.

It was Laura's, "We're _home_! Woo-hoo!" that finally broke the silence as she leapt to her feet in jubilation. Clad once more in the jeans and tank she had been in so long ago, she examined her arms with delight. "Look--my scars are gone. I'm eighteen again!"

Annie, too, rose and surveyed her home with a smile, but Danielle and Krista were having a harder time of it. Krista furiously wiped the tears from her cheeks as if that would make them disappear, but Danielle remained motionless, her hands unconsciously gripping at the weeds as she stared, unfocused, into the distance. "No," she whispered.

Laura, noticing her friend's distress, dropped to a crouch at Danielle's side. "Hey," she said, sympathetically. "I know you were--close to them. We all had friends--"

"They weren't just my friends," Danielle said raggedly. "It's like--that place was like _home_ to me, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon . . ."

"I'll never see Naboo again," Krista said, as if this had just occurred to her. "And--nothing's changed. The movies . . . it's like we never went at all. Amidala and all the handmaidens . . ."

Annie opened her mouth as if to offer some consolation, then realized with a feeling like she'd just been pounded with a sledgehammer that she'd never see Wes or Dru again. Suddenly, sitting down seemed like a good idea.

"It's different for you," Danielle told Laura fiercely. "It was hell for you; of course you're glad to leave. But we--" Her throat choked so she couldn't finish, and instead she just shook her head.

Laura bowed her head slightly, acknowledging the truth of that statement. "I know," she said quietly. "I know. And I'm so sorry--for all of you. But what can we do? This is where the fairytale ends; this is what comes after the happily ever after. All we can do is cherish the memories we have--and never, ever forget them." She smiled suddenly, a soft, rueful expression. "You know, this would make a _great_ story."

As everyone absorbed the truth of her words, acceptance began to fill them--then, quite unexpectedly, they heard a very perturbed and bewildered voice.

"Where in the _Force_ are we?"

Danielle leapt to her feet so fast she nearly fell again, whirling to face the source of that voice. There, several dozen meters away in the very thickest part of the weeds, was an incredibly bizarre group of people, all looking quite confused--and beautifully, marvelously familiar.

Danielle screamed, "Obi! _Qui_!" and then she was running toward them, leaping across the field of weeds and wildflowers to throw herself, sobbing madly, into the arms of the two Jedi she loved. Krista, only slower because of her shorter legs, launched herself at the very upset and bewildered handmaidens and one extremely surprised young Queen, laughing like a wild thing. Annie wasn't far behind in rushing to Wes and Dru, who were peering stupidly around them as though they had never seen weeds before. Laura stayed where she was, just grinning, until she saw a very forlorn Darth Maul standing alone, and then she sprinted to his side.

After their initial joyous greetings, Krista stammered, "But--but--_how_--?"

"Like we know," Obi-Wan snorted. "We watched you step into the glass, then you disappeared and there were these four other girls there. Then they said something about repaying a favor--and here we were."

"The gift!" Annie gasped. "This--_you_ are their gift to us! Oh, wherever you are, thank you, thank you!" she cried to the heavens, throwing her arms wide with joy.

Then, from even farther away, they heard a startled yelp, and turned to see yet another very disgruntled group of people standing in the weeds. "_That_--" a very unnerved looking Luke Skywalker yelled, pointing at the young Obi-Wan, "is unnatural! It's not _possible_! I watched you--a _much _older you--die! And where in the blazes _am_ I?"

As Annie screeched in delight and leapt toward her friend, a groan came from nearby and a strange, lizard-like woman sat up, rubbing her head. "I don't think we're on Tatooine anymore, Cassie."

"You said it," the human woman agreed, goggling at the weeds.

Over Annie's doubled joy, another, clearly amused young woman called, "Aide McGregor? Laura? Is that you? Uh, would you mind explaining . . . this?"

As Laura bounded to join her fellow senatorial aide and Annie was reunited with her friends from the cantina, Krista and Danielle exchanged amused glances. "This should be interesting," Krista said.

From behind her, Danielle heard Qui-Gon say, "Danielle, I think you and your friends have a bit of explaining to do."

Danielle opened her mouth to speak, but Laura got to it first. From the midst of a huge group of laughing, talking people, Laura flung her arms wide and shouted to the heavens. "Ladies and gentlemen of a galaxy long ago and far far away . . . welcome to Earth!"


	22. Epilogue

A/N: Oh, wow. Look, it's the end. Really really the end, this time. Awwwww . . . two years of work coming to an end . . . and some lovely, lovely people were kind enough to keep reviewing and encouraging me all the way through. Love love love to you all, and I hope to see more of you all in the marvelous world of fanfiction. As always, leave a review, or even feel free to e-mail me! I promise you I'll respond.

Since I seem to have spent a lot of time talking for them, I thought it only fair that, at the end, the lovely heroines of this tale get a chance to put their two cents in.

* * *

Hi! I'm Annie, and I am here to save the day! Assuming I know where the saving is needed, what day it is, and I have my gondorian theme music playing. To readers and reviewers: If at any point in this story you found the characters annoying, corny, overly flamboyant, or uneloquent, know that these were not faults of the writing, but accurate depictions of how we really are. Congrats for sticking with us for so long. It's been fun.

Till we meet again,

_Annie_

"I hope you don't mind, hope you don't mind, that I put down in words how wonderful life is now you're in the world..."

* * *

I really appreciated you dragging us through Star Wars, unconciousness and all. Being able to hug all of the characters I wanted to made me so terribly happy. Thank you, dear.

Looooove,

_Krista_

_

* * *

_

DANIELLE: Uh . . . moo?

_Danielle_

_

* * *

_  
And Laura? Well, for those of you who haven't figured it out yet, Laura's words follow. Thanks for tagging along on this wild ride; I'll see you all on the flip side. Without further ado . . .

EPILOGUE

* * *

Every story, no matter how marvelous, must come to an end.

The curtain falls, and we take our bows. The drama finishes, the story fades to the stuff of dreams, and the dull steadiness of reality rules once more.

Except, that is, when reality and dreaming are one and the same.

For a moment the screen is dark, a blank canvas, a breathless hush of anticipation. Then, with a burst of trumpets, words scrawl across the screen, shining against the sprawling vista of space as they weave a tale of magic, wonder, betrayal, love, and redemption. When at last the words fade into the stars, the story begins--an epic story to change the face of the world.

"If you watch that damn thing _one more time_, I swear to God I'll break it in half--and you, too!"

Obi-Wan looked up from his comfortable sprawl on the couch to glare at Krista, who returned his expression with equal malice. "I _like_ it," he said, half-pouting and half-belligerent. "It's a great movie."

From across the room, Qui-Gon called, "You just think it's fascinating to watch yourself defeat the Sith from an impersonal viewpoint."

"Well, you only _don't_ like it because you _die_," Obi-Wan said witheringly.

Surely enough, Qui-Gon did look somewhat nauseous at the prospect of watching himself be impaled again. The first time he'd seen the movie, he'd had to leave the room at that scene, and it had taken Danielle hours to console him. Recovering, he glared at his apprentice. "I don't see you watching_ A New Hope_ endlessly," he shot back.

Obi-Wan looked uneasy, but he had no reply. Merely frowning at his Master, he turned back and engrossed himself in the film once more.

"Well, whatever you think of the movie, we're all _sick_ of it," Krista said, crossing her arms purposefully. "Can't you at least watch Episode II or something?"

"I hate that whiny brat who's supposedly my apprentice," Obi-Wan shuddered. "Gives me a queer turn all over whenever I think about it. And if that's what I look like with a beard, I shall _never_ grow one."

"Vanity, vanity," Laura berated from the far side of the room, her eyes sparkling at him wickedly as she glanced up from her laptop.

"Are we all agreed?" Krista said, raising her voice. "This is the _last_ time Obi-Wan watches this movie for at least a week, or he's banished for a month."

"Here, here," Danielle's voice called from the kitchen.

"Most assuredly," Qui-Gon said heartily.

"I am with you," Maul's deep voice intoned, also from the kitchen. He was none too fond of _The Phantom Menace_, either; for several weeks after watching it things had been very tense between him and Obi and Qui.

"Annie?" Krista prompted.

Annie, who had been sketching with deep concentration in her notebook, looked up with a deer-in-headlights expression. "What?"

"Just say yes," Krista instructed.

"Yes," Annie said, distractedly, and immediately returned to her drawing.

"Laura?"

"I understand your obsession with watching yourself work, Obi, but it really is an appalling movie, and even great ones don't hold up well to such incredible repetition. Find a new obsession, _please_."

"Very well," the Jedi groused. "If you all are so angry about it. And anything to make Laura happy," he added, with a sardonic half-bow in the author's direction.

Laura blew him a kiss in the same spirit. "If you're feeling argumentative we can always take this to the strip and fence about it, darling."

"After the movie, you're on."

"No, you're not," Qui-Gon said, still in his meditative posture in the corner, which had been cleared for just that purpose. "We're due back in our galaxy for a mission in a few hours. I'm afraid your little vengeance match will have to wait."

"Very well," Obi-Wan sighed. "Until then, Laura."

At this Krista decided she'd fought all that she could, and she returned to tormenting Sweetums, her most enduring pastime. The house settled down into its usual routine, everyone coexisting as peacefully as could be expected . . . under the circumstances.

Realizing that under no circumstances could the Star Wars visitors be expected to survive on Earth without constant supervision, the four Earth girls had rented a giant old house for the remainder of the summer, splitting the rent evenly. When each went away to college the house would remain a sort of base of operations where the Star Wars crowd could stay while on Earth and they could all reconvene every so often. It was extraordinarily crowded most of the time, amazingly conflicted, and never, ever dull.

In the kitchen, Danielle was humming contentedly to herself as she prepared dinner, utilizing one of the many cookbooks she'd purchased in Star Wars long ago. As she contentedly sliced cheese and chopped tomatoes, Darth Maul perched attentively on the stool across the counter from her, his eyes locked on the choice morsels before him. Every so often, one of his hands would dart out to try and snatch one, and with a reprimanding shriek Danielle would smack the offending hand away, usually before the Zabrak could pop his prize into his mouth.

Krista, through harassing Obi-Wan and deciding to let sleeping Nexus lie, positioned herself cheerfully in front of the computer screen, logging on to the internet and becoming one with her internet chats. Qui-Gon, finished with his meditation for the day, ambled over and began discussing with her the merits of Rush versus Styx, a conversation that never bored either of them.

Annie was contentedly doodling, a cartoonish sketch of a Nexu with two girls--one in Jedi robes, the other in Handmaiden garb--when she heard a suspiciously cheerful voice call her name from below. "Oh, Annie, darling? Essra and I are just popping out for a quick bit of shopping. Tata now!"

Annie dropped her sketchbook. "Oh, no, you aren't, Cassie! Jedi!" she shouted to the room at large. "Anyone want to help?"

An untold number of psychic minds all focused, and the two Tatooine divas attempting to sneak out the front door stopped short when, out of nowhere, the door slammed shut and locked of its own accord. "Oh, I see," Essra sniffed. "Still won't let us without an escort, Annie?"

"Not until you look human," Annie called, shaking her head in despair. "I swear, those two are more trouble than they're worth."

Everyone jumped as they heard the downstairs door slam, and Annie looked shocked. "What? But how could they have--?"

Her question died unasked when everyone heard the sound of booted feet scrambling up the stairs. In only a moment Luke appeared, looking flushed and very unsettled. "You've got to hide me!" he gasped. "I was at the grocery store, minding my own business, when some clerk took my hat off and started shrieking about some Mark Hamill person! There was nothing I could do to dissuade her, nothing! Now there's an entire screaming _mob_ chasing me, and it's only a matter of time--"

"It's okay," Laura said soothingly, setting aside her laptop. "Take it easy, Luke. Annie, I don't suppose you'd mind nipping him back to his own galaxy for a while? You can take your troublesome café duo with you while you're at it."

"I think that's probably a good idea," Annie said, setting her sketchbook aside. "Come on, Luke; I think you'd better be back in Star Wars for a while."

Gratefully, Luke accepted Annie's proffered hand. "Thanks," he said, clearly relieved.

"No problem. Now let's just pick up Cassie and Essra and we'll have a little field trip." Still holding the Jedi's hand, she led him downstairs. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she called after her, waving.

Everyone shouted their goodbyes, settling back to what they were doing. All of them had made the somewhat unsettling but swift trip from Star Wars to Earth or vice versa numerous times now, and as it was a weekday they all knew Annie wouldn't want to be gone for long.

For, quite unexpectedly, not only had their pendants retained the powers lent to them by their Star Wars counterparts, they still had the power to transport their wearer and any number of guests back and forth between the galaxies. Anchored to the same location and time from which they had last departed, the pendants were now firmly locked in the sway of time--Annie's transported her to the desert on the day Atharca had sent her back in time, or to the steps of the temple like the others' did. Now whenever they returned the same amount of time had elapsed within Star Wars as it had on Earth, and they were able to keep track quite easily. In this manner, their guests were not trapped on Earth as they had once been trapped in Star Wars, and could live a sort of double life whisking back and forth between realities. Their friends were only too happy to transport them.

Thus, they all lived somewhat together in the big house furnished partly in true Earth style and partly with some of their favorite belongings salvaged from Star Wars. Some of their friends, especially Obi, Qui, and Maul, were with them as much as possible. Others, such as Amidala and Laura's senatorial friend, only visited rarely when their busy schedules permitted. The girls also hopped into Star Wars whenever the need arose or the whim seized them, living mainly on Earth but not forgetting the time they had spent in a galaxy long ago and far away.

After nearly two months of this peaceful routine and with summer at its height, the house had settled into a peaceful domestic rhythm. In the corner, Qui-Gon had moved in his exercises to yoga on Laura's Bai-Ling exercise ball, a routine to which he was absolutely addicted and which no one else could yet watch without laughing hysterically. Obi-Wan, while watching _The Phantom Menace_ for perhaps the thousandth time, was also writing music--a skill picked up from the software Danielle and Qui-Gon had purchased for him, long ago. In the corner, Laura was writing, her fingers flying over the keyboard with an unceasing clackety rhythm no one even noticed anymore.

"Dinner in about twenty minutes," Danielle announced, wiping her hands triumphantly and giving Darth Maul's wandering hands another smack.

"Marvelous; Lyn's arriving in fifteen," Laura said, referring to her senatorial friend.

"And Sache and Eirtae in about thirty, so they'll be a bit late; oh well, more for us." On the computer, Krista suddenly cackled wickedly. "Hey, Laura, c'mere and read this. It's great."

"Not just now," Laura replied distractedly. "I'm kinda in a groove right now."

Krista turned to look at her friend fully. "Are you working on _the story_?" They all knew exactly what she meant by this, and suddenly everyone was paying attention.

"Yup."

Danielle exited the kitchen and Krista leapt up from the computer. Both girls instantly moved around their friend, trying to peer around at the laptop screen. Irritably, Laura said, "Hey, hey, back off, now," and they respectfully ignored her.

A clatter of footsteps on the wooden stairs heralded Annie's return, and she cheerfully announced, "Hey, I'm back." Seeing her three friends clustered in the corner, she asked, "What's up?"

"Laura's working on _the story_," Krista proclaimed solemnly.

Annie, who had just picked up her sketchbook again, set it aside with alacrity and bounded to join her friends. "Awesome! Where are you?"

Laura peered at it intently. "Nearly finished, as you well know. We're being all weepy in the meadow, and I've just said, 'This would make a great story.'"

All three onlookers groaned, and Laura looked up in surprise. "That's an awful line," Krista moaned. "It's so _cheesy_!"

Now Laura looked miffed. "_I_ thought it was funny."

"I guess," Krista continued as though Laura hadn't spoken, "you're just going to have to let us edit it when you're finished."

"On a cold day in hell, perhaps." Laura regarded them all through slitted eyes. "Besides, what's _wrong_ with it?"

"The dialogue," Annie said immediately. "For like the whole first half, I sound nothing like myself."

"Me too," Danielle said. "What was that one thing you had me say? 'Downward spiraling farcal delusion' or something like that? Like I would ever say _that_."

"And there's just a lot of general typos," Krista said. "Falling blades of grass, birthday presidents, stuff like that."

"My hot cocoa changes to coffee and then back again," Danielle pointed out. "And you totally forget about my sprained ankle after we escape from Atharca's. _I_ sure didn't."

Laura crossed her arms. "Any other requests?"

"Yeah, could you make me a little more . . . I dunno . . . _useful_ in the final battle with Atharca and Palpatine?" Annie requested. "Everyone else contributes something important. I just kind of get smacked around."

Before Laura could protest, Krista spoke up. "That whole part about me . . . uh . . . getting lost in the grocery store? I think that could be left out."

"I'm unconscious way too much," Danielle whined. "I think I spend like half of the story passed out the way you tell it."

"Of course," Laura said soothingly, a wicked gleam in her eye. "I promise you all that all of that will be changed. Now, _shoo_! I need to finish writing."

Her three self-proclaimed editors gave her one last admonishing look before dispersing, each returning to their various pursuits.

From outside one of their open windows, a sudden noise of many thundering feet, rather like a herd of spooked buffalo, drifted up to them. "Uh-oh," Krista said, perking up. "Mute that, Obi; don't give them any encouragement."

Obediently, Obi-Wan paused _The Phantom Menace_ as Qui-Gon, distracted, looked up from his pretzel stretch. "What is it?"

"The Hamill-hunting Horde have arrived," Laura proclaimed, peering out the nearby window. "Good thing we got rid of him so fast."

Danielle frowned. "Why does it keep getting louder?"

"They seem to have surrounded the house."

"Oh, not again," Krista groaned.

"Fan-girls," Annie said contemptuously. "I hate 'em. Can't they just move on?"

"They're probably here for the duration," Laura said, resigned. "Star Wars folks, you know the drill. Keep down, stay away from the windows, et cetera."

"They're like a freaking swarm of locusts," Krista growled. "Couldn't we just buy a BB gun and pick some of them off? That'd get rid of them."

"They know where we live," Annie sighed. "I don't think _anything_ will get them to leave us alone."

Danielle, in the meantime, had noticed something suspicious. "Hey, guys, where's Maul?"

No one noticed her speaking, because at the same time one of the girls below had taken a megaphone and bellowed up to the house, "SEND OUT THE STAR WARS CHARACTERS!"

Laura hissed for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to stay low, then leaned over and shouted back. "YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE! THERE ARE NO STAR WARS CHARACTERS HERE!"

"WE KNOW YOU HAVE LUKE SKYWALKER UP THERE!" the megaphone retorted. "SEND HIM OUT!"

"YOU'RE ALL CRAZY! GO AWAY AND LEAVE US ALONE!" Slamming the window shut, Laura gave a huff of irritation. "Five minutes and we call the police again."

"They've got to hate us by now," Krista said.

Danielle, who had been searching all the while, now tried again. "Hey, guys! Where's Maul?"

Qui-Gon frowned. "Is he missing?"

"Surely he can't have gotten far," Obi-Wan said in surprise.

Annie, meanwhile, had noticed something rather odd. "Is that . . . screaming I hear?"

Everyone paused. Slowly, and with great foreboding, Danielle walked over to the window and peered down. "Oh, look," she said faintly. "There he is."

Everyone clustered around the windows, mutely watching the chaos below. "Well," Krista said. "No need to call the police. They're all gone."

"Except for that one. She's not moving anymore," Qui-Gon observed.

"I think I should run Maul back into Star Wars for a little while," Danielle grimaced.

Everyone muttered agreement, and Danielle, still rather white, went downstairs to recapture her still very Sithly friend. With all the noise and confusion, no one heard the rapping of a beak against one of the back windows, nor the squeak of protest as a window was nudged open. A tawny owl fluttered in and landed on the headboard, ruffling its wings with great dignity and affront. Swiveling its head once, it deposited a letter, complete with a glowing crest and seal, on one of the beds, then took to wing once more, departing soundlessly into the bright afternoon sun.

* * *

Later that evening, after dinner, when all their guests had returned for the night to their own times and galaxies, the four girls sat in the loft, the dim light from a nearby lamp casting their faces into shadow. Once more each had fallen to her particular pursuit, and a comfortable silence prevailed. In the corner, the TV played, providing a soft backdrop to their various pastimes.

"I guess this is it, then," Krista said suddenly.

Everyone looked at her in surprise. "What?" Annie asked, surprised.

"The end," Krista said, her eyes huge. "I mean, we killed the bad guys. We prevented war. We saved the _world_. That's it. We're done."

"Yay us," Laura said, raising an eyebrow. "Your point being?"

Krista looked ruffled. "It's just . . . I feel kind of lost now. Purposeless, sort of."

"She's right," Danielle said. "I feel it too. What now?"

As Annie blinked at them, Laura gave a demure and yet wicked smile. "Well, girls, I guess this is our happily ever after."

For a moment, there was silence.

"That was the cheesiest f--ing line _ever_."

"Bite me, midget."

"I love you, Laura!"

"Why don'tI believe you when you say that anymore?"

"Hey, knock it off, you guys! Listen!" Annie pointed at the TV.

The four girls quieted and looked at the screen, where a worried-looking anchor was speaking urgently. "Today, there have been several confirmed sightings of what many have been calling an 'alien life form,' and others, a creature of the devil. Whatever it may be, this giant feline creature has been wreaking havoc in the streets of a small Missouri town, attacking pedestrians and breaking into stores. So far there have been no serious injuries, but attempts to subdue the creature have been ineffectual . . ."

All four girls stared quietly as, on the screen, a giant Nexu frolicked joyously after a crowd of screaming people. Sweetums was clearly delighted to find an entire world of people so willing to play with him.

"So that's where Sweetums is today," Annie said, absently.

On screen, the anchorwoman continued. "Many fanatics claim that this creature belongs to the mythical universe of _Star Wars_, and others say that there have been other recent sightings of beings from the popular movie trilogy. Police encourage anyone with knowledge of the origins of this creature or information about these sightings to contact them immediately."

Numbly, Krista shut off the TV, and there was silence.

At last, Laura spoke in a falsely cheerful voice. "Who's up for a little vacation in Star Wars?"

Annie and Krista swiftly raised their hands.

Danielle dropped her head in her hands and shook it despairingly. "May the Force be with us."

**THE END**

(How could I possibly resist?)


End file.
